


Love you to Death

by Suphomie



Series: Tamed [1]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Blood Loss, Captivity, Drugs, Fear, M/M, Obsession, Organized Crime, Pack Dynamics, Packs, Possessive Behavior, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 18:17:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11469021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suphomie/pseuds/Suphomie
Summary: Stiles looks him up and down. He looks scared again. "Why- why aren't you- why are you helping me?"Theo smiles again, running a gentle hand down his neck. "Because you're mine now. And no one can hurt what's mine"





	1. Rotten

"So where are you going to school again?" Donovan Donatti asks from across the bar table at the crowded club, voice barely audible over the pulsing music. And all Stiles can think is who the hell chooses a club as a first date? Aparently Donovan, and it's only adding to the ongoing lists of reasons why Stiles would never go out with him again. The others currently include the awkward car ride where Donovan sneakily tried to put his hand on Stiles' knee, and the way he keeps looking at him like all he can think about is having sex.

It's all stupid Scott's fault. He just thought Stiles and Donovan would be so perfect together (though Stiles has a creeping suspicion that it's because Stiles recently came out and he's trying to show support by setting him up with the first gay guy he meets at a party). Although they're the exact _opposite_ of perfect for eachother. Stiles has met his type before. Low-life, got into fights on the playground, was probably arrested in high school for selling pot in school. 

Stiles nearly sighs before answering, "Kind of in between places right now," He admits with a familiar feeling of stress and urgency that's come up quite a lot in the last few weeks since graduation. "Me and my friends are taking a year off, for uh- personal stuff..." he trails off, because he can't exactly say that they're all worried a new monster will attack Beacon Hills if they leave.

Donovan nods absent mindedly, and Stiles knows he didn't listen to a word he just said. Stiles rests his head on his hand, watching the people in the club instead on paying attention to the worst date of all time. Donavon glances up at him with something unsual in his eyes. Something like.. lust. Stiles looks away, an uncomfortable blush forming over his cheeks, impossible to see by the club's low light.

"You want another drink?" He asks over the music in a deep voice, leaning across the table, "I'm buying."

"No, I'm driving," Stiles mutters, though Donovan knows this because they came here together. 

Donovan shrugs, saying, "I don't mind driving you home," he smirks, something very unnerving about the gesture, as he continues, "I hold my alcohol very well."

Stiles knows he should probably laugh to be polite, but he's never been very good upholding at social conventions, so he rolls his eyes instead. "I'm good," he mutters, taking a greasy fry from the basket in the middle of the grimy table.

Donovan doesn't seem to appreciate this, something unpleasant crossing his face. Just as quickly, though, the look disappears and is replaced by that slimy smirk. "I haven't been on a date in a while," Donovan changes the subject, but Stiles is almost positive that's a lie. He's moderately attractive and has this almost-charm to him. "I get pretty busy with work."

"What do you do?" Stiles asks. He guesses something in retail, by his appearance and the way he carries himself. Either that or he sells drugs, probably weed, nothing extreme.

"Odd jobs," Donovan responds with a shrug, picking up his glass of whiskey and taking a sip. Stiles nods knowingly, because he was right about the drug thing. "Good thing Scott set us up, huh? I think you're exactly what I've been lookinh for." Donovan says the line completely seriously. Stiles supresses another eye roll.

Donovan frowns. Maybe he thought this would go better. To be fair Stiles had been hoping this would go better too. It's his first date with a guy ever. He wasn't exactly expecting romance, but... Donovan practically slams his empty glass back on the table, almost shattering it. A few people around them look over, startled. "Wanna get outta here?" Donovan asks.

"Yes." Stiles says instantly. He'd love nothing more than to go home and forget this entire thing ever happened. He's not exactly a blind date kind of guy. Not a dating kind of guy in general, really. He's never been in an actual relationship. Lydia says it's because he's too abrasive and rude. And yes, maybe she's a little right, but this bad date isn't entirely his fault.

Donovan smirks then, and there's something dark lying underneath the surface. Stiles watches him wearily before he stands.

 

"So," Donovan begins when they pull up to his apartment building. It's downtown, a few minutes from Stiles' place, in a bad neighbourhood that's almost completely void of people. "You wanna come in? Have some coffee?" He smirks, then adds, "Or maybe just hang out."

"No," Stiles says instantly, "I should get home. It's uh," he glances out the window, at the impending sunset, "getting kind of late."

"Oh, c'mon," Donovan says, leaning in far too close for comfort. He rests one hand on Stiles' knee, the other on the back of his seat, trapping Stiles against the corner of the car. He says breathily in his ear, "We could have some fun."

Stiles flinches away from the unwanted contact, pushing Donovan away, back into his own seat. Donovan shoots him a half surprised, half pissed look. "I need to get home," Stiles says in defense.

Donovan's eyes linger for a moment, that darkness creeping back. "Fine," he mutters, annoyed, sounding like a kid who's just been told he can't have a toy. Stiles looks back at the road, uncomfortable. "I'll call you," Donovan says before leaving the car. Stiles sighs in relief when he disapears back into his run down apartment building.

 

"I'm telling you, it was the worst date of all time," Stiles complains, sitting in the big chair in Scott's bedroom, Lydia sitting at the edge of the bed and Scott packing a duffle in front of his dresser. "I mean, everytime I talked all he was thinking about was five places he could do me."

Lydia shrugs, her perfectly curled strawberry hair on her shoulders. "What's wrong with that? Sometimes it's about sex, dates don't always have to be romantic."

"Yeah, but shouldn't they at least be tolerable?" Stiles asks her, to which she sighs.

"Come on, Stiles," Scott says, turning away from his bag. "He's really sweet. He was probably just nervous, can't you give him another chance?"

"Yeah," Lydia adds, "And sweetie? You tend to only see the worst in people-" Stiles stares at her indignantly, "-and you're not exactly the easiest person to be on a date with either."

"What?" Stiles argues, sitting up, "I'm not that bad. I'm not the one who made that date suck."

"Please give him another chance." Scott says with those big puppy eyes of his. Stiles scoffs as he continues, "He texted me, and he really likes you. I'm sure you're just overthinking this. I mean, don't you hate everyone before you get to know them?" Stiles sighs, as Scott continues, "I think you could be really happy with him, you just have to get to know him."

Stiles huffs out a frustrated breath. Scott's always been annoyingly optimistic. He sees the best in everyone he meets. Stiles doesn't. "No, I'm not seeing him again. I'll just die alone, with three cats."

Scott tilts his head. "Please. Just call him back. Think of it like my going away present."

"You're only going away for a month," Stiles corrects. Scott sighs and continues to pack his bag. Scott's going away with Kira for a month to Mexico, a little couple's retreat or something like that, leaving Stiles alone in the apartment for a while. They've dating for almost two years now, and they're obnoxiously perfect for eachother. Stiles kind of wishes he had that kind of relationship with somebody. He sighs, saying, "Okay, I'll call him back." 

Scott smiles. "Good," he says cheerily, continuing to pack, "And who knows, maybe he'll be the one."

Stiles really doubts that, but hey, the least he can do is give the guy another chance. Maybe Scott's right, Stiles tends to be a little too judgmental with new people. 

"And if he's not maybe you'll get laid," Lydia adds. Stiles rolls his eyes.

 

"I'm really glad you called me," Donovan says over the diner table, with that same smirk from the other night. Stiles forces a smile, hoping he hasn't made a mistake. Scott left early this morning, wishing Stiles luck on his date. And then at eight Donovan picked him up and brought him here. It's a diner, much better than a crowded, loud club. And in the car he didn't make any attempt to touch him. So far so good.

"Yeah," Stiles says back, taking a sip of his soda, "Me too."

"So what's new?" Donovan asks, swirling the coffee in his mug with a straw, "Scott went away for that trip- didn't he?"

"Uh, yeah." Stiles says, scratching the back of his neck, "He's gonna be gone for a month."

"Must suck," Donovan says, "Being all alone in your apartment. Do any of your other friends live by you?"

Stiles tilts his head at the unusual question. He takes another long sip of his drink before saying, "Um, not really. Why?"

Donovan shrugs. He starts talking more, complaining about his work, but Stiles isn't really paying attention. He feels a little woozy. At first he thinks that maybe it's the lack of food, since he hasn't eaten since earlier in the day, but once the food comes he feels even sicker at the sight. "Not hungry?" Donovan asks, taking a big bite of his burger. 

Stiles shakes his head, looking back at the table, head spinning. It feels hot in here, like someone's turned up the heat at full blast. "Is everything okay?" Donovan asks, sounding a little concerned, but there's something off in the way he says it. He sounds... almost pleased. Something's wrong, but Stiles can't put his rattling mind on what it is.

"I'm fine, just.. dizzy," Stiles mutters. He puts his elbow on the table and rests his head in his hand. He needs to get out of here, needs to get home. He feels a combination of a serious lack of sleep and about to throw up.

"Let's get out of here," Donovan says, to which Stiles nods. He leaves money on the table, and they both stand, Stiles swaying unstably on his feet. Donovan grabs his arm to steady him, helping him out of the diner and back to his car. Stiles practically falls into the passangers seat. 

He barely recognizes that they're driving until they stop at a red light. "Wh-where're we.." Stiles attempts to ask, looking over at Donovan. Donovan doesn't answer, simply driving foward again once the light turns green. Stiles rests his head against the window, mind still trying to figure out what's happening. It takes him longer than it should to realize that Donovan drugged his soda when he went to the bathroom, and when he does it's already too late.

The car comes to a screeching stop in front of an apartment complex. It's not the one Stiles dropped him off at the other day, and from what he can tell this place is at least an hour out of Beacon Hills. Stiles turns to Donovan in a panic, asking, "Wh-where're we?"

"My place," Donovan says, unbuckling his seatbelt, "You need some rest."

"N-no," Stiles says, shaking his head, "I- Take me home, please-"

Stiles shakes his head weakly as Donovan leaves the car. He walks arouns and opens the passanger's side door, attempting to pull Stiles out by the arm. Stiles meakly struggles, muttering, "No- no-" but Donovan is stronger, finally tugging at his arm more violently, and managing to get him onto the sidewalk. Stiles would scream except no one is around to hear him, all the surrounding apartments either dark or just half torn down.

He wordlessly pulls Stiles into the nearly empty building, covered in grime and litter. He has to really support Stiles' weight, Stiles being too dizzy and disoriented to walk by himself. Even protesting isn't working, the words getting caught in Stiles' throat.

When they step into what Stiles thinks is Donovan's apartment, Donovan pulls him out of the filthy livingroom and down a hallway, into a small bedroom, empty except one mattress on the floor. Stiles tries again to struggle in the doorway, but that barely stops Donovan from pushing him onto the mattress, face first. Stiles rolls onto his back, looking up with fear filled eyes.

"Please, don't," Stiles says, voice weak. Donovan only smirks, that slimy grin finally making sense. Stiles knew there was something off with this guy. But he didn't expect, never in a hundred years did he think he'd be drugged and fucking dragged to his apartment. 

Donovan slowly unbuckles his belt, saying, "You know, I didn't expect you to be such a prude, Stiles," he pulls the leather belt from his pants and tosses it to the floor, "You made me go through all this trouble just to have you."

Stiles tries to push Donovan away as he crouches down next to him on the mattress, but he's too weak and slow to do anything but get a smack to the face. "Stay fucking still," Donovan says roughly, pulling Stiles' jeans down to his ankles.

"Don't," Stiles says, still too woozy to really articulate his thoughts, or even to keep up with what's going on, because the next thing he knows his shirt is ripped off too, and Donovan is pulling his cock out of his pants. Stiles eyes widen, the realization that he's completely powerless to stop him dawning on him. "No, no, no, please," Stiles barely gets out, holding one hand up to Donovan's chest in an attempt to stop him.

Donovan simply pushes the hand away, saying, "This is what you get for being a fucking bitch." Donovan strokes his cock and spits on it once before lining it up with Stiles' hole. Stiles squeezes his eyes shut as he thrusts foward. The pain is unbearable for a moment. Stiles let's out a pained noise that he didn't even know he was capable of, but can't really do anything to end it.

"Oh, fuck," Donovan moans out, pulling out only to ram back in, "You're so fucking tight. You're a fucking virgin, aren't you?" he laughs, thrusting his entire long cock inside, filling him completely, "No wonder you're such a tight ass, no one's ever put you in your place before."

Stiles just stares up at the ceiling as he's violently raped, the pain nothing like he's ever felt before. He wants to scream at the top of his lungs, but all he can manage is punched out noises every few seconds. After what seems like hours, but in reality is a few minutes, Donovan says, "I bet you taste as good as smell."

Stiles' fuzzy mind wraps around the words, confused. Then Donovan's face comes into view and his eyes turn completely white. Stiles' body goes cold, the realization dawning on him. He's a wendigo. He's a fucking wendigo. Oh, Stiles should've known, he should've known, or at least suspected. Donovan smirks, watching the realization hit him, probably enjoying the fear in his eyes. Then he bends down and bites his shoulder with razor sharp teeth. Stiles actually does manage a scream this time, as the flesh is ripped off his body and blood starts to pour down his arm and onto the mattress.

Donovan chews his skin carnivorously, blood dripping down his chin. "Mm," he sounds, smirking again, "You do."

Stiles releases a panicked breath, hands twisting where he grips the mattress. He can't decide which hurts worse, the rape or the bite. He's leaning towards the latter, being that he's losing blood rapidly and he's starting to get even weaker them before.

Donovan starts fucking him harder, digging his nails into the sides of Stiles' hips. He comes after a little while, moaning loudly, his nails finally breaking skin. Then everything goes dark.

 

When Stiles comes to he's disoriented and confused. It takes him a couple minutes to realize he's still in Donovan's apartment, on that uncomfortable mattress on the floor. He blinks at the ceiling, laying perfectly still for just a moment. Then he attempts to stand, using his arm to pull himself up. He quickly realizes what a mistake that was as he falls back onto the mattress with a cry, clutching his arm. His shoulder is ripped apart, most of the skin there gone. The pain is radiating down his entire arm, and it hurts like hell. The mattress is absolutely drenched in his blood, the smell making Stiles nauseous. 

He tries to sit up again, this time using his uninjured arm. It takes him a while, but he finally manages. He looks around the room. It's literally completely empty besides the mattress, no windows or closet doors, even his shredded clothes are gone, leaving him naked. He forgets about that for the time being, standing on shaky feet. He has to hold onto the wall for support, using it to limp over to the single door. It hurts because his ass is still sore and burning from whenever Donovan.. used him.

When he finally gets to the door he pulls the handle, but it's locked. He let's out a small, frustrated noise that sounds more like a cry then a groan. He pulls at it several more times, but he's too weak from blood loss to even attempt to break it down.

Stiles falls back onto the mattress with a whimper. He puts a gentle hand on his aching shoulder. The blood there is mostly dry, but puss has started to come out of the wound. He thinks that that's the start of an infection, but in his delirious brain he can hardly figure it out. He lost a lot of blood, he's honestly surprised he's still alive.

Stiles wonders why Donovan kept him alive. Why he didn't just finish him off last night? Maybe he wants Stiles to suffer. Or maybe he couldn't be bothered to finish him off so he's leaving him here to just die slowly and painfully. 

After sitting for a while, he can't help but notice the tickle in his dry throat. He's incredibly thirsty. He has no idea how long he's been here or if anyone even knows he's gone. Scott's in Mexico, he probably hasn't even texted Stiles. The thought of being trapped here, slowly dying makes Stiles' chest contract in a panic. He rests his head on the wall behind him, staring up at the stained ceiling. He's gonna die here.

 

After what Stiles thinks is five or six days, he's given up hope. Stiles figured out after about a day that Donovan was keeping him alive because he wants something warm to fuck. He's only come in a few times, but he's no comparison to the others. Stiles has lost track of how many men have come in and used him. He has come dripping down his ass, but he can hardly feel it anymore. He just feels dirty, and broken. 

His body matches his mental state. His shoulder is oozing puss and has left his entire arm useless. He can't move his hand or fingers on that arm. But that might have something to do with the way his arms are tied behind his back witb rope, making his limbs lose feeling. They also gagged his painfully dry mouth with duct tape, because he bit someone's cock that was forcefully stuffed inside his mouth. But his shoulder isn't just infected, his flesh is rotting off his body. He feels like he's already dead and has started rotting like a fucking corpse. He wishes he was dead. But all he can do is sit slumped against the wall, and take whatever the men give him.

The wound combined with excessive blood loss with no food has made him feverish and delirious. He doubts anyone is lookinh for him, and if they are he doesn't think they'll find him. It feels like he's trapped in a fucking nightmare, and it will never end.

He hears talking from outside the room. He pulls his knees up to his chest, staring at the door with fear in his eyes. But he knows there's nothing he can do to stop it. It's another guy, another wendigo or werewolf, who's gonna use his body again.

 

When Theo steps into Donovan's shitty apartment he's confronted by the smell of rotting flesh. He wrinkles his nose, looking around for the source. He sees nothing but garbage piled around the room and a couple of his supernatural underlings lounging around the kitchen and livingroom. Theo rolls his eyes. Working about as hard as they usually do. Well, they're really the lowest level of Theo's pack, just here to do the dirty work. 

"Here," Donovan says, handing Theo a big envelope. Theo opens it and counts the money inside, making sure it's the full thousand, as Donovan explains, "We sold all the coke. The rest is from that business guy who owed you money. We had to track him down, but when we found him he gave us a hundred extra." 

"Hm," Theo sounds after he's finished counting the rest of the money. He closes the envelope then, getting ready to leave when that smell of rotting fills his nose again. "What's that smell?" Theo asks, walking over to the source of it. It leads him down the hall, to a closed bedroom door. 

"I found a new toy," Donovan says from down the hall with a smirk, just as Theo reaches for the door knob, "You can use him if you want. He's still pretty tight."

Theo opens the door and is instantly assaulted by the smell of blood and cum. Once he gets passed that, though, he sees someone curled into the corner of the room on a bloody mattress. Theo stops in his tracks. He has pale skin and these big brown, teary eyes that make Theo stare in amazment. He's beautiful. And he's cowering in fear at Theo's presence. 

"Pretty, isn't he?" Donovan asks, right behind him now. Theo has to agree. "He's fiesty, though. He bit Rob. So we had to gag him."

The boy looks between Donovan and Theo, shaking. Oh, he's terrified. And it's making Theo feel something deep inside his gut. He can't decide whether he wants to protect him or fuck him. Maybe both. 

Theo steps into the room, making the boy pull his knees in closer to his chest. Theo doesn't hesitate, crouching in front of the mattress. He slowly reaches his hand over, making the boy flinch, bit Theo comtinues anyways, running his fingers through the boy's sweaty head of hair. This close his face is even prettier. He has these little moles dotting his pale cheeks and a cute upturned nose. 

This close he can also finally see what's causing the rotting smell. The skin on his shoulder is torn, like it's been bitten right off. Donovan must've been snacking on him. The though makes him angry, but he's not really even sure why. Donovan is a wendigo, he eats people all the time. The wound is also badly infected, with puss and other fluid oozing from it. It looks painful. Theo can also see dry blood coated on the boy's thighs, and there's a puddle of piss in the corner of the room. 

"You can't keep someone like this," Theo says, still petting the boy's head. The boy has stopped trying struggle, only staring at Theo with wide, terrified eyes. 

"What?" Donovan says, annoyed.

"He's dying," Theo says calmly as to not further distress the boy, "you can't just keep people captive then kill them."

"Who cares?" Donovan asks, crossing his arms over his chest. "He's just some bitch I went on a date with. His roommate's in Mexico for the next month, no one will even realize he's gone until his bodies at the bottom of a lake."

The boy's eyes widen a little at that. Theo rubs his scalp soothingly, saying in a steady voice, "Go run a bath."

"What-"

"Go." Theo demands firmly. 

Theo can hear Donovan scurry away in fear. He reaches for the tape and peels it off, revealing pink lips that are made for sin. He takes several deep breaths, and Theo has to wonder how long his mouth's been taped like that and when's the last time he was given food or water. 

"How long have you been here?" Theo asks, still rubbing his head. The boy looks confused, still staring at him with wide eyes and still shaking. 

Eventually he does answer in a weak, ragged voice, "S-six days."

Theo makes a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. He runs his finger gently over his thigh, over the dried blood and cum there. The boy flinches, so Theo moves his hand higher to his waist instead. He's probably afraid Theo's gonna rape him like so many of the pack already has. Theo can smell all the different werewolves on him.

"And what's your name?" Theo asks.

"St-Stiles." He whispers. Theo takes in the name, repeating it in his head over and over. He likes it. He likes him. Stiles. He wants to keep him, and make him his. 

"Stiles," Theo says quietly, running his thumb across the side of Stiles' cheek. "Do you want to get out of this room, Stiles?" 

Stiles nods desperately, sunken face lighting up at the statement. Theo smiles, just as Donovan reappears in the doorway and says, "The bath's ready."

Theo reaches behind Stiles and uses his claw to break the rope restraining his wrists together. Stiles pulls his arms in front of him, not moving them besides that. They're discolored, almost purple, from poor circulation. "Do you think you can stand?"

Stiles nods slowly. Theo stands, holding a hand out for Stiles. Stiles takes it cautiously, still looking like he's worried Theo will snap any minute and hurt him. He tries to pull himself up, but he's clearly to weak, so using his other hand to grab Stiles' other arm and pull him up. He winces in pain, his right arm probably sore from the wound on his shoulder. 

Theo has to help him to the bathroom, holding both of his arms and carrying most of his weight. It's not very hard, Stiles is very light. His ribs are showing. He looks like once he was bigger, but he probably hasn't eaten since being trapped here.

When they get to the bathroom, Theo helps him into the bath, where he promptly pulls his knees back to his chest, fear still filling his scent and face. Theo touches his bite wound on Stiles' shoulder, earning a sad whimper. "We'll have to take care of this," he mutters to himself, taking his hand off. He reaches into the cabinet under the sink. It's messy and unorganized, but he finds some body soap. He pours a little bit into his hand and rubs it against Stiles' thighs. Stiles lets him without protest, watching him carefully the whole time. 

"Does this hurt?" Theo asks, cleaning the inside of his thighs and slowly creeling up to his ass, which he knows can't feel good. Werewolves tend not to be very gentle. 

"No." Stiles says raggedly, still watching Theo's every movement. Before Theo knows it the entire tub of water is tinted red. Theo drains the tub, letting the dirty water go down the drain.

"Are you thirsty?" Theo asks. Stiles nods quickly, mouth opening a little. Theo pets his head again, saying, "Stay right here, I'll get you some water."

Stiles watches him leave, and Theo almost likes the way he looks afraid to be alone. When he enters the kitchen he sees Donovan standing by the counter. "Go get some clean clothes," Theo says to some werecoyote sitting at the table that he forgets the name of, then says to Donovan, "Pour a glass of water."

They both rush to do what Theo says. Donovan starts to get water from the sink as he says, "So what? You're just gonna keep him?"

Theo tilts his head. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Donovan shakes his head. He hands Theo a glass of water. Theo takes it back into the bathroom, where the tub is finally empty. He hands Stiles the glass and he guzzles it down quickly, nearly choking in the process. He pulls the drink away, getting a nasty look from Stiles in return. He laughs at the face, saying, "You're gonna choke yourself." He earns another angry look before saying, "You can have as much as you want, just slow down."

Theo lets him have the cup back and Stiles actually drinks it slowly this time. Once he's finished with the glass he asks in a small voice, "Who are you?"

"I'm Theo," Theo says, taking the cup from him and brushing the hair from his forehead out of the way. "Donovan works for me. All of them work for me."

Stiles looks him up and down. He looks scared again. "Why- why aren't you- why are you helping me?"

Theo smiles again, running a gentle hand down his neck. "Because you're mine now. And no one can hurt what's mine"

Stiles stares at him with wide eyes for a moment. Then he nods, saying a weak, "O-Okay."

Theo's smile widens. "Let's get you into some warm clothes, huh?"

 

"Here." Theo says gently as he holds a spoon full of steeming hot broth to Stiles' lips. Stiles opens his mouth slightly and lets the liquid pour into his mouth, down his sore throat. He let's out a soft breath of gratitude as Theo gets another spoonful. Stiles is laying on Theo's king sized bed in his apartment, covered in a thick red blanket while Theo sits at the edge and feeds him soup.

Stiles still doesn't know why Theo is being so nice to him. He still half expects him to turn on him, to use him like the other guys did. But that might be because he's still delirious because of blood loss and the fact that this is the first food he's eaten in almost a week. Theo seems set on taking care of him, giving him a bath, dressing him in warm clothes, cleaning out his shoulder wound and wrapping a bandage around it. Stiles is still confused why, but all he knows is that Theo is the reason he's not slowly dying in that room anymore, being raped every few hours.

"Feeling any better?" Theo asks, petting his hair again. Stiles nods slightly. He's still in pain, but it's remarkly less than before. Theo smiles, scratching behind his ear. Stiles doesn't flinch away from the gentle touch, desperately wanting some human contact that isn't violent or painful.

"A-are you gonna let me go home?" Stiles asks weakly, the thought creeping in the back of his mind, though he'd be happy to stay here and sleep in this comfortable bed.

Theo strokes his cheek. "You're _mine_ now, Stiles," he says in a calm voice, but there's a little bit of authority evident in his voice. 

Stiles only nods, looking ahead. He thinks he should be afraid, but he's still filled with so much relief that he pushes it to the back of his mind for now. Theo rubs his thumb over Stiles' forehead and says, "Get some rest, okay? I'll check on you in a few hours."

As he's about to leave to bed Stiles weakly grabs his bulky arm. Theo turns back to him, and Stiles says in a really weak, way too vunreble voice, "Can- can you stay?"

Theo smiles again. He lifts up the covers and lays down next to Stiles after turning out the lamp, making the room go dark. He pulls Stiles into his arms, so his head is resting on his chest. Stiles tenses for a moment before settling. He should be worried that Theo, some guy he doesn't know who runs some sort of crime organization says he belongs to him, and he has no idea where he is. But he tries to ignore those gnawing thoughts for now, just grateful that his nightmare is over. He closes his eyes, and before he can think anymore he falls asleep.


	2. Warmth

Lydia pulls her key chain out of her bag, looking for a small silver one as she walks down the first floor of Stiles and Scott's apartment building. Her heels clack beneath her when she finally finds the key and reaches door number 8. She doesn't bother knocking, just opening the door with her spare key. She texted Stiles a few days ago, then again yesterday, but didn't receive a response. His rusted old jeep is still in the parking garage, though, so he's either ignoring her or more likely just didn't charge his phone again. He does that from time to time, getting preoccupied with other things, however insignificant.

"Stiles!" She calls, placing her bag down on the coffee table. The apartment seems normal, still has hoodies thrown all over the place and empty food containers sitting on the kitchen counter. But Lydia can tell something's not right. Eveything just feels a little off. And looking closer, she can see that the plates and bowls on the counter are filled with rotten food and are crawling with flies. "Stiles!" She calls louder, in more of a panic. 

She rushes down the hall and into Stiles' room. But he's not there. In fact everything is exactly how it was the last time Lydia was here, nothing out of place. "Stiles!" Lydia calls again, searching every room in the house, but coming up short. Stiles isn't here. Lydia runs out of the house and back to her car

 

"You're saying you think he's _missing_?" Sheriff Stilinski asks from where he's leaning against his desk across from Lydia. 

"I know he is." She says, finger tapping anxiously against her leg, "I haven't seen him in a week, and he hasn't returned any of my texts. His jeep's still in the parking garage."

The sheriff frown, looking away. "Okay," he says, taking a deep breath, "I haven't heard from him in a while either. Is there anywhere else he can be, anyone else he'd be with?"

Lydia goes tense, saying, ".. He was going on a date the last time I saw him. Uh- uh- Donovan, his name is Donovan."

"Donovan, what?" The sheriff asks, turning to his computer, "I'll run his name through the system, get an address."

Lydia thinks for a monent, trying to recall the name. She comes up completely short. She doesn't even know what the guy looks like. All she knows is that Stiles didn't even really want to go on a second date, but her and Scott convinced him to. She swallows, saying, "I-I don't know it. But- but, I can call Scott, he probably knows."

The sheriff nods. Lydia pulls out her phone and pulls up Scott's contact. It rings for a little while, an Lydia worries that he won't pick up until he finally answers, " _Hey, Lydia, what's up?_ "

"That guy Donovan that you set Stiles up with, what's his last name?" She asks in a hurry, her one finger nervously playing with the leather strap on her purse.

Scott is silent for a monent, probably thinking. Then he answers, " _Um, I think Donatti_."

"Donatti," Lydia says to the sheriff. He instantly starts typing it into his computer.

" _Is something wrong?_ " Scott asks, worry laced in his voice.

"Stiles is missing," She says, "I haven't heard from him in a week."

" _Oh my god_ ," Scott says, " _I haven't gotten any texts either. I just thought.. I don't know, maybe he was busy, or just forgot to charge his phone or something.._ ," there's a pause on the other line and Lydia can hear mumbling, " _We're coming back, okay, it'll be a couple hours_."

"Okay, good." Lydia says shakily before hanging up. She takes a deep breath. If something bad happened to Stiles on this date, it's her fault. But she knows he's not dead, she'd have felt his death. He's alive. But she doesn't know in what state.

 

Whatever pills Theo gave him to ease his pain made him weak and delirious. He falls in and out of consciousness, confused and delusional when he wakes up. The only thing Stiles can really focus on is Theo. He checks on him constantly, letting him lay in his arms when he wakes up panicking and petting his head until he falls back to sleep. He takes care of him whenever he's awake too, changing his clothes, feeding him hot broth, keeping him hydrated and changing the bandages on his shoulder. Stiles suspects he's been here for at least three days, but it's really hard to tell in between all the sleeping and the fact Theo hasn't opened the curtains since he's been here.

Stiles head is finally starting to clear, when he wakes up on what he thinks is the fourth day. He glances at the alarm clock on the bedside table and it reads 3:05 pm. He sits up slightly, looking around. Theo's standing by the dresser, putting on a white t-shirt. Stiles rests his head against the headboard with a small groan, arm still hurting from the bite on his shoulder, though it's just a bit sore now. 

"Where're you going?" Stiles asks, noting the indent of keys and a wallet in his pockets. Theo turns to him and then smiles kindly. He finished putting his shirt on before stepping up to the bed and running his fingers through Stiles' hair.

"I have to go take care of a few things." He says, taking a seat at the edge of the bed next to him, "But I won't be gone for long. How are you feeling? Any better?" He puts one hand on Stiles' sweatpants covered leg. Stiles flinches a little.

"Better." He says simply. He swallows. When he was dizzy before, he didn't mind being able to sleep and heal here, but now that he's more clear headed he's starting to get anxiety. He has no idea where he is, or really who Theo even is. Sure, he rescued Stiles and has taken care of him since, but it's not like Stiles knows anything about him. Besides the fact that a bunch of criminals with super strength work for him. Which Stiles suspects has something to do with the things he has to 'take care of'. "W-what things do you have to take care of?"

Theo smirks. "Just some work." He answers vaguely. Then he presses his hand to Stiles' forehead to check his temperature, asking, "Are you still feeling sick? I could give you some more painkillers."

"N-no, I'm fine," Stiles mutters. Theo nods, flashing him another smiles before giving his head one more pat and standing. Stiles watches him walk back over to the dresser, as he nervously plays with his hands. "Are you gonna do something illegal?" Stiles blurts. Apparently the fog in his brain is making his brain to mouth filter even less existent. 

Theo turns to him and tilts his head. Luckily, though, he still has a smirk on his face. "What makes you think that?" He asks, leaning against the dresser.

Stiles swallows again. "You said all those-" he searches for a better word then supernatural rapists, "- _guys_ worked for you. And they sell drugs for you, right?" Theo tilts his head again in confusion. Stiles explains, "They always smelled like crack. And sometimes they'd have blood on their shirts. That's what they do, right? They sell drugs?"

Theo looks him over for a moment, a funny look on his face. Then he chuckles. "You're observant, you know that?" he comments, walking over and grabbing his phone from the bedside table, "I like that."

"So what are you gonna do?" Stiles asks, looking him up and suspiciously. 

Theo takes Stiles' chin in his hand gently. "Don't worry about it, I'm not gonna do anything bad," He reassures him, and although the look on his face indicates otherwise Stiles is sure he's lying, "I'm not _bad_. I promise." He scratches the top of his head before stuffing his phone in his pocket and walking over to the door. "You should get some more rest. You're still healing, and the pills haven't worn off yet. I'll be back later."

Stiles watches him leave, the door shutting closed behind him. He just sits in bed for a moment, just staring at the door. Then he rests his head against the bed, taking a deep breath. 

 

"Where were you?" Tracy, Theo's right hand, asks as Theo walks into the empty office. The only people here are Tracy, Josh, Donovan, and a couple of other wolves that Theo hasn't bothered to learn the name of. Theo takes a paper cup of coffee off the table and takes a sip of the bitter liquid.

"Home." Theo answers simply, taking his seat at the front of the table in the center of the office. He pulls the black duffle bag from the middle of table and opens it, revealing several wads of green bills. He hums, picking one up and counting the amount of hundreds. Donovan looks up from his phone.

"He was playing with his new toy." Donovan says. Well, actually, more like mutters under his breath like an immature child. Theo stops what he was doing, looking up. Donovan averts his gaze. Theo tilts his head. 

"What was that?" Theo asks, leaning foward and dropping his wad of bills. Donovan stares down at the table. Theo can smell his fear. Theo's been pondering over what to do about him. On one hand he's mad at him for raping his new found.. _friend_. But on the other hand, Donovan is a good worker, no matter how immature and impulsive he is, and it's not like he knew Stiles was his at the time. 

"Toy?" Josh asks from where he leans against his chair. He looks between Donovan and Theo until he turns to Donovan and asks, "What toy?"

"He took the little bitch we were keeping in the spare room," Donovan says while staring down at the table, "Even though _I_ found him, and I wanted to be the one to finish him off-"

"That's enough," Tracy warns in a hiss, interrupting the wendigo. Donovan clenches his jaw shut, obviously knowing he went too far. See, so impulsive. And stupid.

"No, no," Theo says, holding a hand up to Tracy to silence her. Donovan tenses. "Keep going," Theo says, leaning against the table, putting his head in his hands, "Tell me all about how I stole your sex slave."

Donovan shifts nervously. Everyone in the room tenses, Theo can feel it. And oh, how good it feels to have that power. That they can all sense he's the alpha with just his tone of voice. "Sorry." Donovan mutters insincerely. Theo watches him for a moment longer before returning to his money, counting it carefully. Yes, he'll have to think about what to do with Donovan.

 

Stiles its up slowly, his ass still remarkably sore. He takes a deep breath, standing without help for the first time in over a week. His legs are shaky but he manages to stay upright. He looks around the room. There's a big bed in the middle, a slick black dresser by the against the left wall, with a mirror above it and a big walk in closet that Theo is always taking clothes out of. On the right wall is a curtain, which Stiles assumes is a window. He limps over, still in some pain, and pulls the grey curtain to the side. He let's out a small breath at the sight of a city through the glass. Now Stiles really has no idea where he is. He looks over the city scape, from however high up they must be in Theo's apartment, trying to find anything familar. He comes up short.

Stiles takes a step backwards, making his way to the bedroom door. He pulls the knob with a shaky hand, but is pleasantlu surprised when it opens. He slowly steps out, into unknown territory. He needs to find a way out of this apartment. And without Theo here, it may be the perfect chance. He hasn't minded his time here, but he's afraid of the implications of staying here. He can't be Theo's _thing_. He can't be _his_ , whatever that means. 

Stiles walks down a hallway with grey carpets and dark walls. There are a two other doors besides Theo's bedroom, one a spare bedroom and the other a bathroom. The hall leads to a large livingroom, with another big window revealing the city. Next to it is an open kitchen and a black dining room table. Stiles passes it all, instead going for the front door. He's stepping closer before he sees the alarm system attached to it, which stops him in his tracks. It's one of those things that you have to put in the security code before leaving or you get notified on your phone, Stiles knows because Lydia has one in her house. Stiles swallows, taking a step backward. If he leaves, Theo will know. And from the way he calls him 'his', Stiles suspects he's not too eager for him to leave. And being that he's a supernatural crime boss or _something_ , Stiles isn't too eager to piss him off either.

A phone. A phone, that's what Stiles needs. Then he can call Scott, who's the true alpha, who can rescue him. The plan sounds bad in his head, but he's kind of running out of options here. He searches the house but finds nothing. Theo took his cellphone with him earlier, and Stiles isn't sure the whereabouts of his phone. Donovan probably destroyed it. Stiles shudders at the thought of him, and oh no, he's not ready to think about that again, so he pushes it out of his head for now. It's only when Stiles turns back into the living room he notices an unopened door. 

He opens it to reveal an office. With a computer on the desk. Stiles let's out a sigh of relief, rushing over to sit on the desk chair and turning the computer on. It boots up for far too long as Stiles anxiously taps his foot against the ground. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Stiles mutters to himself, glancing at the door every few moments. When it finally starts, a lock screen comes up, looking for a password. "Fuck," Stiles snaps. He rubs his hand against his face.

Stiles tries Theo's name, but it doesn't work. He taps his finger against the desk before opening the desk drawers, checking if Theo wrote down the password and stored it away. The first drawer has nothing but pens and a box of pencils, and the second is empty, but the third has a lock on it. Stiles makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. He pulls a pen out and twists it open so he only has the tip. Then he picks the desk lock. It's not exactly a perfect pick, but it'll have to do. It takes a while, but he manages to unlock it and pull it open.

Inside is several manilla folders. Stiles furrows his brows. He pulls one out, forgetting momentarily about the computer's password. To be fair, it's been over a week since Stiles has taken his adderall. Inside the folder is several documents, a few pictures, and a USB drive. Stiles picks up a photo of a man and looks it over. He turns to a document that reads a name, the same that is written with sharpie on the USB.

"What the hell.." Stiles murmurs to himself, looking through the other documents. At the bottom of the pile is a document that says in big red letters 'Terminated'. Stiles takes in a worried breath. He pushes that folder aside in exchange for another one. The contents are basically the same except this one has a woman's name instead. All of the folders are the same, with different people's names, and they all say 'Terminated'. 

"What are you doing?" A voice says behind Stiles, making him jump and throw the papers he was holding. He whips around and sees Theo standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "I said stay in bed. You're still healing," Theo says with genuine concern. 

Stiles huffs in a breath. "What are these?" Stiles asks, holding up one of the USB drives, "Who are these people?"

Theo glances at the papers, then back up. "Those are people who I... did _business_ with." He explains casually, "They owed me money they couldn't pay back. So I took care of them." Stiles swallows nervously. Theo glances back at the open drawer, asking, "How'd you open that?"

"P-picked the lock." Stiles answers. Theo smirks, stepping foward. He places his finger under Stiles' chin, tilting his head up. Stiles stands slowly, leaning against the desk, Theo inches away from him.

"Hm," Theo sounds. "I really underestimated you. You're trickier than I thought you were," He says. Stiles narrows his eyes. Then he rubs a hand over Stiles' right hip, making him shiver while saying with a smirk, "I guess I need to watch out for you.

Theo leans in a little bit closer. "Are you afraid of me?" He asks casually, putting one his left hand on the desk next to Stiles, trapping him against it. 

Stiles looks him up and down. "N-no." Stiles answers. And he doesn't even know if he's lying or not. Theo was a comforting presence when he was still healing and delirious. Stiles was afraid to be without him, actually. He's sure it's some form of hero's syndome, but that doesn't make it feel any less real. Theo hasn't shown any visible signs of being a bad guy, but Donovan works for him and that must mean something right? Not to mention the files Stiles just found. Fuck, he doesn't know how he feels and that thought's what he's really afraid of.

"Good." Theo says, eyes drifting from Stiles face down to his neck. He continues, "I don't want you to be. I'm not going to hurt you."

Then Theo turns to the computer and shuts it off. Stiles licks his lips before saying, "I need to go home. I can't stay here, my friends.." he watches Theo's face, gaging a reaction before continuing. Theo's smirk falls.

"I told you," Theo says, "You're _mine_."

"Yeah," Stiles mutters, shifting again, "But- but I don't know if I can be yours. I don't even know you, and-"

"Stiles," Theo interrupts, running his fingers through Stiles' hair, making Stiles flinch, but Theo continues anyways, "I know this will be an adjustment for you. But you belong to me now. I saved you, didn't I? If it wasn't for me you'd still be with Donovan. Is that what you want?" Stiles shakes his head immediately. No, no, he can't go back. He can't even think about it without panicking. Theo rubs his scalp comfortingly, saying, "You'll be happy here, Stiles. I'll make you happy."

Stiles nods slightly. Then Theo leans in, and their lips press together. Stiles' eyes widen for a moment. But the kiss is soft. Gentle. Nothing like anything that happened with Donovan or those other men. But almost as soon as it starts, Theo pulls away, fixing Stiles with this adoring look. Stiles can feel himself blushing. 

But then Theo leans in closer, saying in a dark voice, "Don't try to leave me," his eyes glow red, "Because if you do I promise you'll be terrified of me."

Stiles tenses his fear. Theo's eyes fade back to blue and his smiles returns, like what just happened didn't. "Come on," Theo says, taking Stiles' hand in his, "I brought home some dinner. Are you ready to eat something that isn't broth?"

Stiles nods slightly again, those confused feelings returning and allowing himself to be pulled from the office. He glances back at the files on the floor before they leave the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, please!!! I really love comments! Where should this go? What should happned next? What was your favorite part/what should I expand on?


	3. Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I know a lot of people don't leave comments, but if you like this, please leave me some!!!! Anything helps, and I don't know where I should take this!

_1 2 3 4_

The alarm buzzes slightly, screen glowing red for a moment before returning to it's normal green. Stiles huffs in frustration, glancing behind him at the dark hallwayo then back at the front door's alarm system. 

_2 3 4 5_

The alarm glows red again. Stiles huffs again. This is never gonna fucking work. There are an endless combination of four digit numbers, and not enough time in the world to try them all. He looks behind him again, making sure Theo's still asleep. After a moment of complete silence, Stiles goes back to typing in codes, trying to guess the right one.

He needs to leave. Nothing's happened, but Stiles' anxiety has gotten out of control. He can't even sleep without waking up in a complete panic. But he knows he has to be very careful. Theo is an alpha, afterall. One that is very keen on keeping him. That thought alone makes Stiles' mind go wild in fear. The anxiety mixed with his racing mind due to no adderal in almost two weeks now is a terrible combination. 

Suddenly the lights turn on, lighting up the dark apartment. Stiles freezes where he is on his knees in front of the door. Then he hears, "You shouldn't do that," come from behind him. He closes his eyes and sighs. He turns to see Theo standing at the livingroom's entrance, arms crossed over his chest. Stiles let's out a shaky breath. "After five wrong guesses an alarm goes off," Theo continues, taking a step forward, "Don't want that, do you?"

Theo walks over. Stiles quickly stands on shaky feet. He thought he was careful, he thought Theo was really asleep. He was so stupid to think this would work. He didn't even have a plan for once he got out. Theo closes the alarm keypad's small plastic door, then turns to Stiles, putting on hand on the wall next to him to trap him against the door. Then he leans in, saying in a calm, but stern voice, "Stiles. I've made it so easy for you to be here without being tempted to leave. Why are you making things difficult for yourself?"

Stiles pushes Theo away just enough to free himself, taking a few step away from the alpha. His stomach twists from anxiety as soon as he does it. Theo fixes him with an unimpressed look. "You can't keep me here forever," Stiles says back, voice too unsteady to really be taken seriously, "I can't stay here," he takes in another shaky breath, "I need to- I need to go home. I have friends. And- and my dad..."

Theo watches him carefully for a moment. Stiles has no idea what he's thinking, but every second of silence is making his stomach twist more until he feels like he might throw up. "I _rescued_ you, Stiles. Your friends would've let you die."

Stiles looks down. He's been thinking about that a lot lately. Why haven't they found him yet? It's been almost two weeks since Donovan drugged him and.. did bad stuff to him. Do they even know he's gone? The thought of no one even noticing he's missing makes him both incredibly sad and a little angry. "Scott's in Mexico.." Stiles mutters, still looking at the carpet, "And- and that's why he hasn't come for me."

Theo tilts his head. "Do you really believe that?" Theo asks, taking another step forward. Stiles doesn't step back this time as Theo gently says, "Because if he really cared about you- the way _I_ do- then he would've noticed you weren't answering his texts." Theo shrugs, adding, " _Or_ , maybe he did notice, and he just doesn't care about you at all."

Stiles knows Theo's just playing on his insecurities, but that doesn't stop it from feeling real. That's exactly what he's been thinking. Scott's an alpha, couldn't he have tracked his scent by now? They can't be that far from Beacon Hills. Scott is probably still in Mexico, enjoying his vacation, not thinking about Stiles at all. And that thought is devastating. What else does he have if he doesn't have his pack? 

Theo makes a sympathetic noise, taking another step foward. He strokes Stiles' cheek gently, comfortingly. "It's okay," Theo says, "You don't need him, or anyone else. You have me now. And I'm gonna protect you."

Stiles pulls away from the kind hand. He still doesn't know how to feel. Everything is too complicated. He wants to go home. That's all he needs to focus on, not on the feelings for Theo that he wishes would just go away. Theo doesn't seem angered by the way he pulls away, though, only saying, "It's late. You need some more rest. You're still healing, you know."

Stiles knows. He still walks with a fucking limp. So he nods. Theo starts walking back into the bedroom, not taking Stiles' hand this time. Stiles glances back at the security system. But then he follows Theo back into the bedroom. Theo lays down in his spot closer to the door, so Stiles slowly walks around to what he guesses is his spot now, by the windows. He doesn't sleep in Theo's arms anymore, only when he wakes up from nightmares and needs to be calmed down. But tonight Theo lays right next to him, puts his hand on his waist, and says in a quiet but dark, "Don't try to leave me again, Stiles. I'll let it slide this time, beacause you're still adjusting," his hand tightens on his hip, "But if you do it again there will be consquences. Understand?"

Stiles blinks. He then turns over to look at the curtain covered window without answering, but he gets the message. Theo's terrifying sometimes. But then others he's sweet, and conforting. Stiles has no fucking idea why. Theo's hand stays on his waist the rest of the night, and he rests head right next to Stiles'. 

 

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Lydia asks when they pull up to a broken down apartment building in the middle of a terrible, empty neighborhood. 

"This is what the sheriff said," Scott says, shutting the engine off and hopping out of the car quickly. He practically runs into the building, Lydia and Kira chasing behind to catch up with him. The apartment's lobby is filthy, full of litter and smells of weed. Lydia's face scrunches up, following Scott into the elevator that looks moments from breaking down. 

When they get to the second floor they go to apartment 28. Scott knocks loudly, fist almost splintering the wood. He's shaking. Since he's come back and discovered Stiles is missing he's been a wreck. And now it's been 11 days since Stiles went on the date, when he probably went missing. They couldn't find Donovan, because he gave a fake last name to Scott. But, based on his looks they finally found out his real name because he has a criminal record, and his last known address, which is here. 

There's no answer. Scott lets out a shaky breath, knocking again and yelling, "Hello?!" 

When there's still no answer, Scott kicks the door in, letting it fall to the floor with a loud bang. Lydia flinches, but follows him inside anyways. The apartment is completely empty, the only thing remaining being mold and cockroaches crawling across the floor. 

"No, no, no," Scott says, looking around in a panic. "Donovan!" He calls, rushing down the hall and into the single bedroom door. "Stiles!" He calls desperately when he exits the probably empty room, looking around, "Stiles?!"

"He's not here, Scott." Lydia says, jaw clenched shut tight. Guilt and fear is swirling inside her stomach, making her sick. Stiles isn't here. Where the hell is he?

Scott runs a nervous hand through his hair. "Can you smell him?" Kira asks, "Either of them? Maybe you can track it?"

Scott sniffs the air, shaking his head. "No. Nothing. Donovan must've not been here in a really long time. And Stiles.." he takes in a ragged breath, shaking his head again, "What the hell are we gonna do?!" He yells, "He's with some drug addict. Why did I set him up with him? He didn't even want to go on another date- I made him go on another date. This is all my fault."

"Scott," Kira says, putting a gentle hand on his arm, "It's okay. We're going to find him." She looks to Lydia, saying, "He's still alive, right? You can still feel him?"

Lydia nods. She would've felt his death. But no, he's still alive, wherever he is. In whatever state he's in. She pushes that to the back of her mind for now, instead looking to Scott and saying, "It's our fault that he's gone, so we're going go get him back. We haven't tried everything yet. We will find a way."

Scott nods, still shaking. Lydia tries to believe her own words.

 

Stiles paces the livingroom while playing with his hands. The late afternoon sun is creeping in through the tall windows, casting a bright glow on the room. After last night Theo decided to give him a shit ton of anxiety medication, making his mind far more calm and stopping his panic attacks. The only problem is, without the anxiety gnawing at his brain, his adhd is worse than ever. He hasn't gone so long off his pills since he was a kid, and now he literally can't sit still. Everything is just so _boring_ , he can't even keep one coherent thought in his head. He doesn't know if Theo knew this would happen, but if he did he's a genius. Stiles' mind is so busy that he's unable to even think about another escape attempt.

Theo walks out of the bedroom, eyeing Stiles. "Here," he says, throwing Stiles a pair of black converse. Stiles struggles to catch them, but when he does he looks down at them in confusion. "Put these on."

"What..?" Stiles says, looking back up with wide eyes, "You're taking me out? Of the apartment?"

"Yeah," Theo says, grabbing his phone and keys from the table next to the door. Stiles starts putting on his shoes quickly, mind instantly racing with a hundred ways to escape. "I don't trust you alone, so you're coming to work with me today," he stuffs his wallet into his pants pockets. He's dressed nicer than usual, though he's usually dressed pretty nice. But today he's wearing tight black jeans, and a grey blazer with a black t-shirt underneath. Whatever he wears he can pull off, but this especially looks good on him. He throws Stiles a jacket from the rack, adding, "Hurry up."

Stiles finishes tying his shoes then pulls on Theo's grey hoodie over the plaid shirt and grey jeans of Theo's he was already wearing. The clothes are too big on him since he hasn't gained all of his weight back after being starved half to death, but they'll do. Also the feeling of shoes on his feet after so long is weird, but he tries to ignore that, needing desperately to focus on just one thing- escape.

Stiles watches carefully as Theo opens the box to the alarms keypad. But the fucker covers it with his hand as he types in the password. The screen lights up green and then Theo opens the door. He holds out his hand and waits expectantly. Stiles sighs, taking the alpha's hand.

 

Stiles had no chance to actually go outside as they went right from Theo's building to his parking garage, to his fancy black car, then to another parking garage in a new building about 15 minutes away. But the good news is Stiles got to see what street they're on and what Theo's address is. That information will be useful if he ever manages to get to a phone. Which seems unlikely, being that Theo is leading him by the hand out of the parking garage right now.

"What is this place?" Stiles asks, looking around the nearly full lot. The cars range from very expensive to super cheap, which makes it impossible to discern what kind of place they're at. Especially simce Theo's 'work' is crime. "An office?"

"Not exactly," Theo says ominously, pulling Stiles up a flight of stairs. They walk up at least three flights, which is hell for Stiles' sore ass. Finally they reach a long hall. As they get closer to doors at the end, Stiles can hear what sounds like a crowd cheering. Stiles furrows his brows in confusion. Then right before they step in, Theo says, "Keep your head down."

Stiles doesn't have time to think about the statement before Theo pushes open the doors. Everything is suddenly an explosion of sound. Stiles was right about the cheering. Theo leads him into a huge room, like a gym, almost, filled with arena seats, and a fighting ring in the middle. It makes sense once Stiles looks inside the caged ring, seeing two werewolves ripping eachother apart. It's a fucking cage match. One that Theo runs. 

Theo leads him through the stands, to the other side of the arena, passed hoards of screaming people in the crowd. No one bothers them as they walk, in fact a bunch of them quiet down and move out of the way when they see Theo, some even greeting him out of respect. It's not hard to figure out they're all supernatural creatures, probably either one's who work for Theo or do buisness with him. A lot of werewolves, judging all the glowing eyes. The noise and smell of blood coming from the ring makes Stiles' gut twist in fear despite having no previous anxiety.

They eventually reach another door that leads them into another hallway. It's thankfully empty and quiet. "This is your work?" Stiles asks, "This is the _business_ you do?"

"One of the things I do," Theo says, leading him into another door. The room is decent sized, about the size of Theo's bedroom. It has a red couch, a coffee table, a TV, and a mini-fridge against the wall. It also has a another door that Stiles' guesses leads to a bathroom. He thinks this must be Theo's private room here, being it's decorated the same as Theo's apartment. "Sit," Theo says, throwing off his blazer onto the couch. 

Stiles takes a seat on the comfortable couch. He shakes his leg up and down, mind racing a mile a minute. How the hell is he supposed to get a phone here? Surrounded by Theo's supernatural friends. By the way they all carefully avoided eye contact with Theo and especially Stiles he suspects they're all afraid of Theo and know Stiles is 'his'.

"Don't play with that," Theo says as he types something into his phone. Stiles drops the remote he didn't even notice he was fiddling with, focusing his attention at the phone between his fingers. Theo walks over, putting his phone back in his pocket. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Stay here, alright?"

Stiles nods. Theo then puts a finger under his chin, making Stiles look at him. "I'm serious. There are a lot of werewolves here and you won't get very far before one of them tries to feel you up." Stiles cringes, unpleasant memories he's been trying to suppress threatening to return to the surface. "I'm trying to protect you," Theo adds. He leans down and kisses Stiles' forehead gently. "There's water in the fridge," He says simply before walking out the room and closing the door behind him.

Stiles waits precisely two minutes before standing. He searches the entire room, hoping to find a phone or any electronic device that connects to internet. He finds nothing except water and protein bars stored in the fridge. He stares the door down. Then he rests his ear against it, listening for any sounds in the hallway. When he hears nothing he slowly opens the door. He looks around the long hallway and sees no one. He takes a deep breath before leaving the room. 

He walks quickly down the hall. He doesn't even know where he's going, he just knows this might be his only chance to escape Theo. But as he's rushing away, he hears a voice behind him call, "Where do you think you're going?"

Stiles' entire body paralyzes in fear. That's not Theo. Memories of the six days held that room come flooding back suddenly, freezing him in his spot. He can hear footsteps behind him, creeping closer and closer. "My toy is back." A hand touches his waist, "Want to go again, Stiles? Want to be fucked like the bitch you are?"

He's suddenly slammed against the wall and then he's face to face with Donovan. Stiles' chest contracts in panic. It's like he's back there, back on that bloody mattress, slowly dying. Donovan smirks, mouth full of razor sharp teeth. "Miss me?" He asks. Then he leans in, laughing evilly. "I missed you.." his fingers trail down Stiles' side, "Missed that tight little hole."

Stiles takes in a sharp breath. He tries meakly to move away, but Donovan growls, grabbing Stiles' arm and pinning it to the wall. "You think just because Theo wants you means you're safe?" His grip tightens, "You're still _my_ bitch. You're nothing but a fucking _meal_ , that's all you'll ever be. Why the hell would Theo want some slut like you?" He growls angrily again, eyes changing to bright white. "I should've finished you off when I had the chance."

Donovan uses his other hand to squeeze Stiles' still painful shoulder. It must be the pain that snaps Stiles out of his fear induced state because he pushes Donovan off him. Donovan must be surprised by this because he stumbles backwards. "Get the fuck away from me!" Stiles yells, anger consuming him. 

Donovan's face fills with rage, growling loudly, threateningly. "You fucking cunt!" He yells through a mouthful of teeth, "You think just 'cause you're living in some fancy apartment, dressed in the alpha's clothes that I won't bend you over and fuck you right now-"

"I don't think Theo would be very happy with you if you hurt me," Stiles says, thinking quickly, fear suddenly making him feel very focused. Donovan narrows his eyes as Stiles continues, "I'm his, now. And he's your alpha, right?"

Donovan just stares at him for a moment, completely shocked. Then he growls again. But he does back off, eyes fading back to their normal brown. "You fucking bitch," he says, "Theo's gonna get sick of you eventually. And when he does, I'm gonna really enjoy eating you alive."

He walks away then, back down the hall, disappearing when he turns the corner. Stiles huffs out a panicked breath, resting against the wall. He leaves the hall, going back into the room. He can't breath. He can't breath. He falls onto the floor as soon as he gets back in. All he can think about is being trapped, alone, bleeding out. The feeling of being raped over and over and over... he's terrified of going back. He can't go back. 

He barely notices the door opens until Theo is crouching down next to him, saying in a concerned voice, "Stiles, hey, what's the matter?"

Stiles can't answer. He can't breath. "It's okay, it's okay," Theo says, pulling him in by the arms, "You're okay. But you need to calm down, Stiles. You need to breath, can you do that for me?" Stiles tries to take a deep breath. Then another. His breathing calms down just a little bit, but he's still shaking and tears are flowing down his cheeks. Theo runs a hand through his hair, asking softly, "What happened?"

Stiles shakes his head. He can't tell Theo he tried to leave. He desperately needs Theo's comfort, he needs on a visceral to feel safe, safe from Donovan. Theo pulls him up onto the couch then into his arms. Stiles closes his eyes and leans against Theo's chest. "It's okay," he whispers into Stiles' hair. "You're safe. You're with me."

Stiles knows in the back of his mind that his emotional distress is the driving force in making him seek Theo's comfort but in this moment he _needs_ this. He needs to be held and told everything is okay. He feels almost pathetic for it. But Theo continues to pet his head, much like he did on that first night together. 

"You're okay," Theo whispers, kissing the top of Stiles' head. Then he kisses his cheek, lips moving down to his neck. Stiles stays perfectly still, taking a deep breath. "You're perfect," Theo says, barely audible. Stiles closes his eyes, letting Theo kiss him. It feels.. good. Good. And that's something Stiles really needs to feel. "I'm never gonna let anything bad happen to you again," he says into his neck, and Stiles believes him.

Theo pulls away, looking at Stiles lovingly. Stiles is blushing, he knows it. He can feel the heat on his cheeks and down his neck. Theo smiles then, running a finger across Stiles' cheek. Then he just holds him. And they lay there for a long time. Stiles is still shaking in fear. He wishes he had Scott or his dad, but they're not here. And all he has is Theo. So if he doesn't want Donovan to kill him, he has to stay with Theo. Stiles takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment!!! I need to know where to take it and if anyone likes it so far!


	4. Home

"Are you sure that this will work?" Malia asks, arms crossed over her chest while she leans against one of the walls in Stiles' bedroom. Lydia takes in a deep breath, staring at Stiles' detective board, trying to concentrate. Which isn't easy with three people continuously talking behind her. Scott and Kira give Malia a look, to which she responds, "What? We should he out looking for Stiles' scent, not waiting for a vision that might not come."

"We can't find his scent." Scott says in a hushed voice, as if Lydia can't hear them talking three feet away from her. "This is the next best thing. It'll happen."

Kira nods in agreement, saying, "Yeah, as long as we stay quiet and let her-"

"Shh." Lydia sounds, rolling her eyes before closing them again. Kira says a quiet apology and they all shut up, letting her finally concentrate on the task at hand. She's still new at this, not entirely sure what she's doing. Her powers never quite work when she wants them to. But she takes in a deep breath anyways and tries to think about Stiles. When that doesn't really work, she reaches a hand out, touching his board, feeling the texture of the red strings and the way the paper feels soft against her fingertips. "Where are you?" She whispers to no one.

Lydia huffs in frustration. "This isn't working, I can't-" she begins to say, stopping when she opens her eyes and realizes she's no longer in Stiles' bedroom. She's in an unfamilar space, a large living room with grey, modern looking furniture and a dark carpet. She turns and sees tall windows revealing a city landscape. It's night, wherever she is, making the city even prettier. The apartment must be high up, because she can see everything from up here.

Sounds of whispers fill her ears. Slowly, she walks into a short, unlit hallway. There's one cracked white door at the end. "Stiles?" She asks, the whispering getting louder as she walks down the hallway. She opens the door quickly, but the room she enters doesn't seem to belong to the nice, high-rise apartment. It's small, with nothing inside but a mattress against one of the walls. It's utterly soaked in blood. And it _smells_. She can't really make out exactly what it is, but it's so strong she has to cover her nose, face scrunching up in disgust. She turns around to leave, but there's someone in the doorway. It's a man with tan skin and dirty blond hair. That's all Lydia can see before he slams the door shut.

"Hey!" She yells, pounding her fists against the wood. No one answers. "Hey! Let me out!" She calls louder, fear consuming her. No, not just fear. Panic. _Terror_. It's making her chest constrict and her breaths rapid. "Help!" She screams as loud as she can, "Help me!"

Lydia's body suddenly lights up in pain. Her shoulder hurts the most, pain radiating down her arm and to her fingertips. She clutches the shoulder in her hand, falling backwards onto the mattress as if suddenly becoming completely exhausted. She lays on the mattress for a moment, staring up at the cieling, entire body in pain, fear making it impossible to breath. Then she screams at the top of her lungs. 

"Lydia, Lydia!" Scott is suddenly yelling. Lydia has to blink a few times before realizing she's back in Stiles' bedroom, on the floor. She looks up at Scott uneasily, touching her shoulder again. The overwhelming pain is gone, but it's impossible to shake the feeling of it. 

"Scott..?" she says quietly, slightly disoriented. Then she shoots straight up, saying, "Stiles. S-Stiles, he- he's- he's-."

"What?" Scott asks with wide eyes, voice frantic, "What's wrong? Is he okay?"

No. No, he's not okay. "He's in pain," she says, still shaking as Malia helps her to her feet. She shakes her head desperately, saying, "He's scared. He can't breath, he can't-"

"Do you know where he is?!" Scott interrupts impatiently as Kira sits Lydia down on Stiles' bed and puts a blanket over her body. "Did you see where he is?" 

Lydia tries to think back to her vision, the whole thing blurry and confusing. "I- I think he's in a city," she says, remembering the first place she was, the apartment, "In- In an apartment, I think he's trapped in an apartment."

"With Donovan?" Kira asks, sitting next to her and rubbing her back soothingly to calm him down. But there's an underlying worry in her tone. Everyone is worried. Stiles is pack. His absence is unsettling.

Lydia shakes her head. "I don't think so. There was someone else.." she tries to picture the man she saw, "He had blond hair. I couldn't really see him. I think he's the one who has Stiles. He's not letting him leave."

"Wait.." Malia says, cocking her head to the side in confusion, "Another guy?"

Lydia nods. Scott takes a deep breath, probably trying to calm himself. He's really losing it. With every passing day, without any trace of Stiles, he's growing more and more anxious. But this is _something_ , isn't it? Finally a lead. If they manage to decipher what it means. "Who's the other guy?" Scott asks, "Why would there be another guy?"

"I don't know. And I don't know exactly what I just saw, but I know that Stiles is afraid of him, and he's the one who's keeping him captive." Lydia explains, her shakes finally stopping. She throws the blanket off of her and runs a hand over her face. "But he's alive." She purposefully leaves out the part about the bloody mattress and the excruciating pain in her shoulder:

Scott takes another deep breath, nodding, then saying, "Okay. Okay... we'll.. We _will_ find him." He looks around at the pack. Lydia looks down. If whatever Stiles' going through is even a fraction like what Lydia just experienced, then they need to find him soon.

 

Stiles takes a deep breath, staring out the window of Theo's apartment. The city is nice, especially from this high up. It's nearly night, the afternoon sun finally setting upon the city, casting an orange glow. Stiles feels like he's gotten used to this view. This apartment is starting to feel like home, which is something Stiles doesn't know how to feel about.

It's not like it's bad here. He's fed three times a day, free to eat snacks and drink water whenever he wants to. Free to shower when he wants, go to the bathroom when he wants, which is nice after so long being trapped in one room and pissing on the floor. The apartment itself is nice, too. It's really big, being on the top floor of the building, much bigger than Stiles and Scott's cramped two bedroom apartment. The only thing that makes Stiles hesitate on getting to comfortable is Theo.

They still share a bed, despite Theo having a spare. Theo says it's because when Stiles has nightmares he tangles himself in the sheets and he's afraid he may choke himself, but Stiles isn't stupid. He knows Theo's not doing this out of the goodness of his heart. It's because he wants him as some sort of boyfriend, though it seems like he wants a pet more than anything. Stiles knows that this little arrangement will eventually turn sexual. It's the only logical next step. And that makes Stiles.. nervous, to say the least.

It's not that Theo is _unattractive_. Blond hair, tan skin, blue eyes, well built. Objectively, he's perfect. But Stiles just isn't attracted to him. At all. And he's not gonna lie, the guy is kind of scary. Sometimes he's really nice and comforting. But then there're are these moments when the nice facade falls and he shows his true colors. And Stiles is conflicted, because on one hand he knows he needs to get away before Theo inevitably hurts him, but on the other hand, he's always gonna see Theo as the person who's protecting him and who saved him from Donovan. 

But even with that, the whole sex thing is something gnawing at the back of his mind that's making him anxious even though Theo's been giving him a variety of different medications to calm him down. The thought of being held down and forcefully- well, Stiles doesn't think he's mentally capable of handling it, even with Theo. But so far it's only been some light, nonaggressive kissing, so Stiles is hoping Theo loses all interest in him before anything more happens. 

"Put this on," Theo says as he walks into the bedroom from the hall, tossing Stiles a hoodie. Stiles looks it over before turning to the werewolf. 

"We're going back to the fighting ring?" Stiles asks, pulling the hoodie over him, despite it being Summer and warm out. Stiles is sure that Theo just wants his scent on him. Some werewolf thing that Stiles will never understand.

"Not today," Theo says, handing him the same pair of shoes from the other day, then watches him put them on, "I have to do some other work."

"And I have to come?" Stiles asks, tying his laces. Stiles knows he should want to leave, want to be in a place where escaping is possible. But after the disaster of an attempt last time, his drive to escape is nonexistent. Theo is the only one who can protect him from Donovan, and Stiles is fucking terrified of Donovan. 

"I know," Theo says, standing in front of Stiles and lifting his chin gently, "You got a little anxious last time. But it'll be different this time. I'm not gonna leave you alone again." His thumb rubs across the bottom of Stiles' chin, as he adds, "And you're a little too smart to leave alone here, you're too curious for your own good."

Stiles can't really argue with that. A blush forms over his cheeks, so he looks down and finishes tying his shoes. "C'mon," Theo says, leading him from their room. Oh, Jesus. _Their_ room. That's really how Stiles has started to view it. Jesus Fucking Christ.

 

The office is emptier than usual. Which is good, considering Theo's brought Stiles along today. Theo had no choice, Stiles has proved too unpredictable to be left alone. It isn't a bad thing, not at all. Theo likes having Stiles around, likes surrounding himself with the scent he enjoys so much. But Stiles doesn't seem at all happy to be here judging by the way the smell of anxiety spiked as soon as the entered the office.

The members of the pack that are here, that being only Tracy, Josh and Corey, look over with curious eyes. "Sit," Theo says to Stiles, gesturing to the chair next to his. Stiles does uncomfortably, staring down at the ground and hunching his shoulders, as if trying to make himself as small as possible. Theo wonders if he can sense he's completely surrounded by werewolves, like a fawn cornered by hungry wolves.

"I didn't know we were allowed to bring pets with us," Josh comments without thinking, because he never really thinks before he speaks, does he? Tracy turns to glare at him. But it's nothing compared to the look Stiles shoots him, anger replacing his anxiety. It's so venomous that it actually makes Josh look down. Theo smirks. So full of surprises.

"What is this?" Theo asks, looking down at the blueprints spread across the long table. 

"The police Station," Tracy says, then goes on to explain their plan to break in during the night and steal evidence that incriminates a sector of Theo's pack. "We can take out whoever's at the front desk then whoever's left in the offices, I doubt there will many cops on duty."

"That won't work." Stiles says suddenly where he sits close to Theo. Everyone looks over to him. He's tapping his fingertips on the desk and his leg is shaking up and down. Theo crosses his arms, looking at Stiles expectantly. Stiles swallows, continuing, "Every police station has a button behind the front desk- like a panic button- that sets off an alarm. If you just go in then other cops are gonna be there in minutes."

Tracy narrows her eyes. "Then what should we do?" She asks, turning to Theo. Theo looks back at Stiles.

"It's not hard to sneak in. Just have someone distract the person at the desk and someone else can sneak from the front office-" he points to a spot on the map, "Down this hall and then to the evidence room. Then no dead cops and no one even knows."

A smirk crosses Theo's face. He's never been so attracted to someone. If they were alone Theo would already be ripping the clothes he's wearing and slamming him against the table. But he knows he has to be patient with Stiles. If he moves too fast then Stiles won't trust him. And trust is important, especially since Theo's been thinking more and more about keeping Stiles long term. He turns to Tracy and says, "You heard him. That's our new plan."

 

The industrial door slams shut, echoing through the giant, empty office building, as the last of Theo's beta's leave. Stiles looks to Theo, who's rolling up the blueprints of a police station that for the last hour he's been discussing when to break into with his pack of criminal werewolves. Once Theo is finished he places the map in a rusted filing cabinet against the wall and turns to Stiles, smirk on his face. 

"What?" Stiles asks, looking him up and down uneasily. 

"Nothing," Theo says, walking over to where Stiles is still sitting on a rolling office chair. Then he leans down, kissing Stiles on the lips. It's more intense than their other kisses, hungrier. Stiles widen his eyes as Theo pulls into a standing position by the waist, then pushes him so he's against the table. 

Theo wraps his hands around Stiles' hip and picks him up so he's sitting on the table and Theo is standing between his legs. Stiles closes his eyes, putting his hands on Theo's shoulders, cautiously resting into the kiss. If this is all it is, it's fine, but something in Stiles' mind is telling him that kissing isn't the only thing on Theo's mind right now, not by the way his hands are inches from Stiles' ass. 

Theo moves from Stiles' lips to his neck, sucking hungrily at the skin there. Stiles is sure it's going to leave a mark. Or several. Stiles shifts, trying his best to just relax. But then one of Theo's hands move from his back to his crotch, palming him through the grey jeans Theo handed him this morning.

"Wait, what're you-" Stiles says, body tensing at the touch. It's been a while since he's been touched there. It's not like Donovan or any of the other guys cared about him getting off. So this is.. weird. And Stiles honestly can't figure out why Theo is touching him there.

"I want to make you feel good," Theo says, pulling off Stiles' neck and fixing him with an adoring look. Stiles blushes, averting his eyes. Theo smirks, rubbing Stiles' crotch through his jeans until he gets hard. Which he does. He can't really help it, but it's not like he's trying to stop it.

Theo pulls away and unbuttons Stiles' jeans. Stiles watches him do it, confused arousal filling his system at the touch. Theo takes Stiles' cock in his hand, stroking it carefully. He's good at it, he's probably done this a lot before. "Good?" Theo asks, looking back up into Stiles' eyes.

Stiles nods, heat filling his cheeks. Theo smirks again, leaning in to kiss him again. Stiles responds this time, kissing him back. It doesn't take long for Stiles to cum in Theo's hand, moaning into Theo's mouth as he does. It feel really fucking good. The feeling makes his mind go completely blank for a moment, and that is something that Stiles didn't realize he desperately needed. 

"Fuck," Stiles mutters when he comes to his sense. Theo is zipping his pants back up, smirking as he does. He pulls up his hand and licks Stiles' come off him. Stiles nearly moans again. Theo places one more kiss on Stiles' neck before pulling away and saying, "It's getting late. Let's go home."

Stiles nods. He follows Theo out of the office, a bit unsteady on his feet. Home. He's going to his new home. And that thought finally doesn't sound weird in his head. But he can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me comments if you still like this and want more!!!! 
> 
> Let me know what you want to happen in the next chapter!!
> 
> Thank you!


	5. Fear

Stiles opens his eyes to darkness, the only light in the bedroom is from the lit up city night outside. "Theo?" He whispers tiredly, voice gruff, looking over to Theo's side of the bed. The alpha is missing, leaving only crumbled up sheets. Stiles sits up, uneasy feeling in his gut. He's gotten too used to sleeping with Theo and the fact that he's not here in the middle of the night is making him uneasy. Which Stiles realizes is a little pathetic. 

Stiles stands from the bed, walking over to the closed door. His ass is still just a bit sore, even after over two weeks of healing, but it's slowly becoming more manageable. He hears talking when he reaches the door, though it's faint. He turns the knob very carefully, making sure it doesn't make any noise. Then he tiptoes down the hall and peaks his head into the livingroom. Theo isn't in there, he's instead by the opened front door, talking to Tracy who's on the other side.

"I don't _care_ ," Theo is saying when Stiles can hear the conversation. He sounds annoyed, which is an emotion that Stiles hasn't really seen on him. "I want the money they owe me. You can do whatever you have to do, just _get it_."

"It's not my fault," Tracy begins to say, arms crossed over her chest, "They're a stronger pack than we thought and they don't want to do buisness with us anymore-"

"I. don't. _care_ who's fault it is." Theo grits out between clenched teeth. Oh, he's angry now. And it's terrifying. Stiles does not want to ever be on the receiving side of that anger. Stiles isn't ever sure what happened to make him mad, being that he still doesn't know the exact scope of Theo's buisness and what else he does besides selling expensive drugs and running a supernatural fighting ring. "Just get it. Kill them all if you have to, just get me what they owe me."

Stiles' eyes suddenly find the alarm system, which is glowing green. The code is still typed in. Stiles squints his eyes, trying to find out what the numbers are. It reads _4 9 2_ but the other number is blocked because of the way Theo is standing, covering it completely. Stiles' hands dig into the wall in frustration. Come on, Theo, just a little bit to the left...

"We'll get it." Tracy assures Theo. Then she hands him a full looking satchel, which Stiles thinks might be money. Theo snatches it aggressively, then tosses it onto the ground next to him.

"Good." Theo says, rubbing his forehead in frustration. Tracy leaves and Theo slams the door shut. Stiles sees that the full code is _4 9 2 6_ before it disapears completely. Stiles memorizes the code, repeating it over and over in his head.

Theo huffs, grabbing the bag from the floor and gripping it tight in his hand. "How long have you been standing there?" He asks suddenly, and Stiles knows he's talking to him. Stiles swallows, stepping away from the wall he was hiding behind. Theo turns, fixing Stiles with an exasperated look. 

"Not that long." Stiles lies. Theo sighs, taking his bag as he walks into the livingroom. He switches on the light and drops the bag onto the couch. "Well, kind of long, I guess. But I didn't hear _everything_ ," he says, like that makes it better somehow.

"You know," Theo says, turning back to Stiles, "Curiousity killed the cat."

"Who owes you money?" Stiles asks, leaning against the wall. "Who are you gonna kill?"

"Just a pack that I lent some money to." Theo says, "You don't need to know, Stiles. You don't need to worry about it. I have everything taken care of."

Stiles hates the sound of that. Not knowing exactly what's going on. He's a little nosy. Okay, maybe a lot nosy. But it seems justified in this case, the werewolf he's living with is committing crimes and he'd feel much better if he knew what they were. Theo sighs again, this time letting a small smile cross his face. "I'm gonna take care of you," he strokes his cheek, "You don't need to know anything that doesn't involve you. You just need to trust me, can you do that?"

Stiles looks him up and down nervously. He doesn't know the answer to that question. He doesn't know if he trusts Theo or not. On one hand, Theo hasn't done anything bad to him. Hasn't tried to hurt him. He's threatened him a few times, but hasn't acted on any of it. But Stiles feels like he would if Stiles did something to upset him. ".. I- I guess." He mutters, unsure of what else to say.

Theo kisses his cheek. "Good," Theo says into his ear, "That's all I want. To take care of you." He pulls away, saying, "We should head back to bed, you need sleep." He holds out his hand expectantly. Stiles takes it, the feeling familiar by now. Theo leads him back down the hall, into the dark bedroom. Stiles lays back in his spot and Theo lays in his. "C'mere," Theo says, opening his arms. Stiles lays with him, resting his head on the alpha's chest. The steady sound of his heart beating is calming, reassuring. But then he whispers, "You shouldn't listen in on my conversations," he runs his fingers through Stiles' hair, "You might hear something you don't like."

Stiles sighs, closing his eyes.

 

"Is it working?" Malia asks, resting her head against Lydia's shoulder, looking down at the piece of blank paper on the table in front of her. Lydia huffs in frustration, gripping the pencil in her hand hard, nearly breaking the thing. Malia must sense her growing anger, because she moves away, saying, "Sorry. But you're taking a long time."

"It'll happen when it happens." Lydia snaps, opening her eyes. The paper in front of her is still blank. They've been searching endlessly for Stiles, but have found nothing. Her vision did nothing to help, the only thing it telling them that Stiles is in some unknown city that could be anywhere, and the fact that Donovan might not be the one who's keeping him. 

"Malia's right." Scott says, voice weak. Lydia glances behind her, looking at Scott's face. He has dark circles under his eyes and he's looking a bit pale. It's all the worry. It's been three weeks since anyone has seen Stiles. The only thing keeping the alpha from going completely over the edge is the fact that they know Stiles has to be alive, somewhere. Scott crosses his arms, saying, "We need to look for him. And if we're not sure that this will tell us anything, why waste our time?"

Lydia shakes her head. "We have to try." She says, turning back to the paper. She closes her eyes again, explaining, "He's completely gone, his scent is nowhere to be found, we don't even know who has him anymore. This is the only thing we have right now, so we're going to try it."

Scott nods, taking a step backward. Lydia takes a deep breath before closing her eyes again. She moves the pencil aimlessly, hoping that something will come out of this. They desperately need a lead. They're starting to lose hope, and if they don't find something soon Lydia fears they'll give up.

She tries to think of Stiles as she draws, tries to seek out where he is. She thinks of that little room he was panicking in, the one that reeked of blood and gore. Then something takes over her body. It's an odd feeling. It's like a combination of fear and safety. It's absolutely confusing, but thats the only feeling she's getting. She opens her eyes with a start and sees a mans face on her paper. "This is him," she says quietly, looking over the detailed yet scribbled portrait, "This is who slammed the door shut."

Scott takes the paper, looking it over. "He's the one who has Stiles?" Scott says with hopeful, yet hesitant eyes. Lydia nods, recalling perfectly well what the guy's face looked like when he trapped her in that small, bloody room. He has spikey hair, and a nice looking face. He looks like a normal, everyday guy. "Who is he?" Scott asks in a whisper, staring down at the drawing like it's about to tell him something. But that's all it is- a drawing. This might tell them that it's truly not Donovan who's keeping Stiles captive, but they still have no idea who this guy is.

"O-okay," Scott says, voice shaking a bit. "Okay. This is- this is something. We should take this to the sheriff, maybe he can.." he shrugs, looking up and saying, "I don't know. Maybe he'll know how to find him."

Lydia nods, although the plan sounds unlikely. Scott folds the paper in half and stuffs it in his pocket, grabbing his coat from off Lydia's kitchen chair. Lydia watches Scott and Malia walk from the room, leaving Lydia alone at the table. She sighs, looking back at her pencil. Why is Stiles feeling afraid but also safe? It just doesn't make sense. What the hell is he going through?

 

Theo looks through his phone as he walks down the hall to his apartment on the top floor. He sniffs the air before he opens the door and catches a whiff of food. He crinkles his brows, opening the front door then typing a code into his security system. He looks over to the kitchen and sees Stiles by the counter, over the oven. "Are you cooking?" Theo asks, dropping his phone onto the coffee table.

Stiles glances over, then back at the chicken he's cutting. "Yeah." He says, continuing to cut like it's no big deal, like this is something he does all the time. He glances back once more and must notice the blood sprinkled on Theo's shirt because he swallows and purposefully looks away.

Theo cocks his head to the side, leaning against the island. "Why are you doing that?" Theo can't remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal, usually picking up something from the diner down the street or ordering in.

"I'm bored," Stiles mutters, taking a pan out of the cabinet under him. He drops the pan onto the stove, continuing, "There's nothing to do here but watch TV," he aggressively drops a chunk of chicken into a bowl full of eggs, obviously frustrated at his lack of ability to keep himself entertained, "And I can't eat another burrito from chipotle."

Theo chuckles, watching him cook. The idea of Stiles cooking dinner for him makes something inside Theo come alive. Stiles is really perfect, isn't he? No, he's not Theo's usual type. He's not an obedient, mindless toy. Far from it. And that's what makes him so perfect. He's clever. And observant. He could be an asset to Theo's operation, under Theo's supervision of course. He's just a little too smart for his own good. Not to mention the fact that he's adorable and Theo wants nothing more than to bend him over the table and fuck him senseless right now. But he's more than just a pretty pet at this point and Theo can really imagine keeping him for a long time.

"How's your shoulder?" Theo asks, walking up behind Stiles. Stiles glances behind him wearily before turning back to his food. Theo puts a gentle hand on the shoulder. He changed the bandage a few days ago and Stiles winced the entire time, the bite still red and raw. Stiles doesn't flinch when Theo softly brushes his fingers across it.

"Better." Stiles says, shifting where he stands, clearly a little uncomfortable. Theo takes his hand off in favor of reaching into his pocket.

"Got you something." Theo says, pulling a small plastic bag from his pocket. Stiles puts the knife he was holding down, turning and shooting Theo a confused face. "Close your eyes," Theo says. Stiles takes a breath, but does reluctantly close his eyes. Theo takes his wrist and pulls up his hand. He slides a thin, golden ring onto Stiles' ring finger.

Stiles examines the ring then looks up. "What's this for?" 

"Tracy found it in the evidence room, the one you helped us break into," Theo smiles, "I thought you'd like it." Which is a lie. He justs wants something to show everyone that Stiles is taken. Though most of the pack already knows because of the fact Stiles is always dressed in Theo's clothes and his scent is practically completely cloaked in Theo's. Maybe the ring is just for Theo, so he can look at it and remind himself that Stiles is all his. 

Stiles stares at the ring for another moment. "Th-Thanks." He says quietly, a subtle blush forming over his cheeks, turning back to the food. Theo smirks, running his fingers over the back of Stiles' neck.

All his.

 

Stiles stuffs chicken into his mouth then takes a huge gulp of water as he sits across from Theo at the diningroom table. Something about being trapped without food and hardly any water for a week made him incapable of eating food with scarfing it all down as quickly as possible. Theo watches him carefully while he eats, smirking slightly. Stiles averts his eyes, continuing to eat the meal he prepared.

This day has been... frustrating. He stared at the front door for hours when Theo was out, doing whatever buisness he does. But he couldn't bring himself to type in the security code and leave. And he has no idea why. He should be running as far away as he can from this place, yet he can't do it. Maybe it's because he's gotten too comfortable here. Or maybe his fear of Donovan is so bad that he's afraid Donovan will instantly find him the second he steps out of the apartment building. Either way, he couldn't force himself to escape. He even cooked dinner to take his mind off of it.

"Why are you staring at me like?" Stiles asks suddenly, dropping his fork. Theo does this a lot. He just _stares_ , with this small smile on his face. Theo's smirk just widens. 

"I'm not staring," Theo says, taking a long sip of water, "I'm just.. observing." Stiles narrows his eyes, while Theo casually switches topics by asking, "Where'd you learn to cook so well?" while taking another bite of chicken.

Stiles looks down. "I- Uh- used to cook for my dad." He explains, cutting a cooked carrot with his fork. He swallows, continuing, "After my mom died, my dad started eating really bad. So I looked up a bunch of recipes in my moms old cookbook, and just.. did it." He hates the story and hates the fact he just reminded himself after all these years. He's tried to push it from his mind, and almost did.

"My sister died when I was little," Theo explains, eating casually, "She broke her leg then fell in a cold lake. Froze to death," he takes a sip of water, "Then my parents died a few years later.

Stiles swallows. "Sorry." He says, not knowing what else to.

Theo hums. He finishes his chicken then, leaving nothing on his plate but crums and grease. Then he stands, walking back to the kitchen while asking, "How about some wine?" He pulls out a tall bottle, "It's old. Been in the apartment since I moved in," he pulls out two wine glasses and brings them over.

Theo pours him a glass, filling it up a bit too much, then pours his own glass. "Werewolves can't get drunk," Stiles says, picking up his glass and looking it over. He decides to take a sip. One sip can't hurt, right?

"They can't," Theo says, taking a sip of wine, "But I like the taste." He takes another sip of the dark red liquid. Then out of nowhere he says, "You're bored, huh?" Stiles nods with a sigh. He can't help it. Even back at his and Scott's apartment he was constantly bored, only truly focusing when he has a shit ton of adderall, which despite Theo giving him tons of medication adderall is not one of them. Theo puts both empty dinner plates to the side, walks over to the livingroom bookshelf, and pulls out a box. "You like chess?" He asks, holding up the box with a smile. Stiles nods, so he brings it over.

After a minute of set up, Theo makes the first move, sliding his pawn one space ahead. Stiles moves too, and they play silently for a few moments. Then Stiles curiously asks, "Why didn't you take me with you today?" Theo glances up. Stiles continues, "You've been taking me with you whenever you go to.. 'work'. Why not today?"

Theo shrugs, moving his rook. "I trust you not to try to leave," he answers causally, waiting for Stiles to make his move.

"You do?" Stiles asks. Though really, he hasn't given Theo a reason to think that he's going to leave. The one time he tried to leave he had a panic attack and then rushed back, right into Theo's arms. 

"Yeah," Theo says, taking a sip of his wine, "We've known eachother for a little while. You're smart. If you wanted to leave, you'd already be gone." Stiles wonders how true that is. Does he really want to stay here? With Theo? He doesn't have much time to think about it, as Theo looks up and asks, "You trust me. Don't you?"

Stiles swallows. He carelessly moves a pawn, not at all focused on the game in front of him. "Y-yeah, I guess," he mutters under his breath, hoping Theo will just drop the subject.

Of course Theo doesn't. He smirks, tilting his head to the side. "You're lying," he says lightly, fingers playing with the rim of his wine glass. "Why don't you trust me, Stiles?"

Stiles sighs. "I don't know what you want with me." He admits, the thought floating around in his head for two weeks. "I don't know why you saved me from Donovan- well, I know that you want sex," Theo raises his eyebrows, "Or a boyfriend, or a pet- but I don't know _why me_. And I guess.. I guess I'm afraid that you're gonna get sick of me and give me back to him."

Theo nods slowly, seemingly taking in the information. Stiles watches him wearily, anxiously waiting for a response. It feels good to get what he was thinking off his chest. "I'm not gonna do that, Stiles." He leans in, saying calmly, "Don't think that. I'm not going to get sick of you."

"But _why_?" Stiles asks, beyond confused, "Why me? What the hell's so special about me that you want me?"

An adoring smile crosses Theo's face. Stiles narrows his eyes in confusion. "You really don't think much of yourself, do you?" Theo asks, moving one of his pieces across the board, taking one of Stiles' pawns. "You're adorable." Stiles rolls his eyes at the ridiculous compliment, but Theo continues, "And you're clever. Smarter than most of the idiots that work for me. You're not just a pet to me." He looks Stiles' face over, adding with a grin, "Plus your cheeks and the tip of your nose get pink when you drink wine."

Stiles can feel himself blushing. He coughs, moving his knight. "So what are we, then?" Theo looks over, tilting his head. Stiles swallows again. "What is.. _this_? If I'm more than your pet."

"I'm not sure," Theo says, casually looking over the board. "I'm not that big on labels." He moves a piece, then looks up, "We live together. You sleep in my bed, wear my clothes. Whatever you want to call it is fine."

Stiles makes a noise in the back of his throat, taking another sip of wine. The liquid takes bad and bitter, how wine normally tastes, but he swallows it anyways. It feels like he's Theo's boyfriend. A boyfriend that he keeps locked up in an apartment. "I still think you might get sick of me," Stiles mutters, moving a piece across the board, "Everyone does eventually. I'm pretty sure it's because I'm too abrasive, I make people uncomfortable."

He's not even sure why he says it. Maybe he just always feels vulnerable with Theo. He hates it. Theo looks him up and down. "I think we get along pretty well, don't you? I like that you say what's on your mind. So what's that?"

"The Florence Nightingale effect." Stiles explains, taking another sip of wine.

Theo smirks. "I think it's more than that." He moves his queen, leaning in and saying in a whisper, "I think that we're meant for eachother."

"What?" Stiles squeaks in surprise, moving a piece without looking down. 

Theo's grin grows. "We fit each other. And I'm happy when I'm with you." He moves a piece as he continues, "You and me... we can do great things together." He finishes moving his piece, "Checkmate."

They're both silent for a moment, Stiles stunned, and Theo waiting patiently for a response. Stiles isn't sure if it's the loving words or if it's the wine making him tipsy, but Stiles leans across the table and kisses Theo. Theo leans into it, putting a hand in Stiles' hair. The chess board gets knocked over and Stiles is sure wine is dripping onto the table, but he doesn't care. And neither does Theo aparently, as he's grabbing Stiles waist and picking him up, dropping him onto the couch on his back.

Theo grabs his chin, moving it to the side to kiss his neck. Stiles closes his eyes, resting his head against one of Theo's red cushions. The kissing feels good. And Stiles wouldn't mind if he got another orgasm, he could really use something to clear his head. Theo pulls his shirt up, not completely taking it off, just revealing his chest. Stiles shivers, one hand on the back of Theo's shirt. 

Stiles' so engrossed in the monent that he barely notices Theo's hands moving slowly towards his ass. But he does notice when they reach inside his pants. He opens his eyes immediately, saying, "Stop, what are you doing?"

Theo doesn't stop for a moment. Panic fills his gut and suddenly he's back in that little room. He knows he's not, but it really feels like it for a second. He pushes Theo away as hard as he can, falling backwards off the couch as he does. "Stop, stop, please," Stiles says quickly, a a few rapid, panicked breaths escaping from his lips, while he pulls his shirt down, "Don't."

Theo stares at him for a moment. He looks a little surprised. But he swallows, collecting himself quickly. "I'm sorry," he says calming. He coughs, fixing his wrinkled shirt. "I got.. carried away," he reaches out a hand to Stiles on the floor, beginning to say, "Here, let me-"

"No, please, stop," Stiles says, scurrying away from the extended hand. He's terrified. He knows it's Theo, he knows that. But he can't be.. _touched_ there, not like that. He can't be raped again, he just _can't_. 

Theo sighs. "Stiles," he says gently, pulling his hand away, "You need to calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you, just come here-"

Stiles stands quickly on shaky legs, making sure he's several feet away from Theo. "Just- stop.." he says, voice nothing more than a pathetic whisper. 

"Stiles-" Theo tries, but Stiles is already walking into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. As if that would even stop Theo from coming in if he wanted to. It's terrifying to feel so powerless again. But after a minute Theo does not enter the room, so Stiles takes it as a sign to sit down on the bed. He pulls his knees up to his chest, hugging them close. 

 

Stiles stares at his socks, playing with a loose tread. He's calmed down a bit from earlier. Well, he doesn't feel like he's about to have a panic attack anymore, so Stiles is taking that as a win. He still feels completely powerless, but there's nothing he can do about that as a moment, especially since he's too afraid to leave the bedroom and confront Theo about what happened. 

He doesn't have to though, as Theo opens the door slowly, stepping inside. "Stiles," he says softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Stiles swallows, not lookinh up from his socks. To say he's embarrassed is an understatement. He completely freaked out. He hates feeling vulnerable. "I have to go take care of something. I'll be back in an hour. Are you gonna be okay alone?" 

"I'm fine." Stiles mumbles. Even though he feels far from it. 

Theo stares at him for a second. "It's okay, you know," He says, "To get nervous. You're not ready yet, I know that. I shouldn't have pushed you so soon." He puts a comforting hand on Stiles knee, making him flinch without thinking. Theo leaves his hand there, continuing, "Just get some rest. You look tired." 

He stands then, not pushing for anything else before leaving the room. Stiles waits three minutes, waiting until he knows Theo's gone, before standing from the bed. He reaches into the closet against the wall and takes out the pair of converse he's worn twice. He pulls them over his feet, tying them quickly. Then he walks to the front door. He slowly types the code _2 9 4 6_. His finger ghosts over the enter button for a moment. Then he clicks it, letting the screen glow green. He opens the apartment door staring out into the hallway for a long time. He steps out and closes the door behind him.

Something like anxiety fills him as he walks down the hallway. Something about this feels inherently wrong. He shouldn't be here without Theo. He shouldn't be leaving. If Theo catches him... well, Stiles doesn't want Theo to catch him. 

He had to leave, Stiles reminds himself. He can't be trapped here anymore. Especially now that he knows Theo is going to want to have sex with him at some point. That of course doesn't stop this from being absolutely terrifying. He feels like any minute Theo is going to pop up out of nowhere like he always does and drag him back. But Stiles has to try. He _has_ to, right?

Stiles takes the stairs, figuring the elevator will just slow him down. It ends up taking a lot of time anyways, which allows Stiles to think of a million reasons to turn back right now. He ignores them all. When he finally reaches the bottom floor, he goes straight for the parking garage. Less people, less chance of being spotted. The doors locked though, which frustrates Stiles to no end. He takes a deep breath, looking between the stairs and the doorway to the lobby. He huffs, walking into the apartment buildings lobby.

He passes a few people getting mail and the doorman, heading straight for the door. Just as he's reaching for the door he hears, "Excuse me, sir." Stiles freezes. He slowly looks behind him, fear filling his system. The doorman points to his shoes, saying, "You're shoe is untied."

Stiles sighs in relief. "Oh." He says. He bends down, quicking relacing the sneaker. The ring Theo gave him earlier catches his eye, making Stiles stop immediately. It's not too late to turn around. To live with Theo, be his whatever. But no. No. Stiles has a dad, and a pack, and Scott. None of them have found him in three weeks, but they're still there. Stiles stands, nodding slightly at the doorman before stepping outside. 

Stiles takes a deep breath of the freah air, even though it's a cold, rainy night. It feels like it's been a while since he was outside. He just stares out Theo's big window all the time, him and the outside seperated by glass. It's like he's free. Like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. 

He walks down the city street, rain pouring on his head. He gets a few strange looks, but he stays determined. Determined to do what, he isn't sure. He didn't have a plan for once he got out, the thought of freedom just seemed so impossible. He should've made a plan, this is so unlike him. Okay, he doesn't know where he is, so a phone is his best shot. A phone. Okay, just find a phone, it can't be that hard-

A clawed hand wraps around his arm tight and pulls him off the street, into a dark alley between the apartment builing and the one next to him. His back is slammed against the wall before he has a chance to understand what's happening. Theo is standing in front of him. "Where do you think you're going?" Theo growls out, hair wet with rain.

Stiles takes in a sharp breath. "How did you-" 

"I heard you trying to get into the parking garage," Theo says, eyes glowing a threatening red. "Are you trying to _leave_ me?" He asks, clutching Stiles' arm tighter, making it hurt, "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

Stiles blanks on what to say. He thought he was free. He was free. Theo growls again, pulling Stiles out of the alley by the arm and back into the building. His eyes fade back to blue when they get inside and his claws disapear as to not draw suspicion. He silently leads him into the elevator, only letting him go to push a button. Stiles rubs his arm absentmindedly, blood coming back on his fingers from the claw marks.

Someone steps into the elevator, pushing a button before standing in the opposite corner. He only glances at Stiles, looking back at the door a second later. Theo puts his hand on Stiles' back, claws back and digging into his shirt. He's angry. Really angry. If it wasn't for the guy standing in the elevator with them Stiles is sure Theo would be yelling at him like in the alley.

Once they reach the top floor Theo takes Stiles wrist and leads him silently down the hall. The door to the apartment creeps open and Theo pushes by the back inside. Stiles stumbles as Theo slams the door shut. Stiles turns quickly, heart hammering in his chest. "What the hell was that?!" Theo yells, his usual calm persona completely gone. Stiles flinches, actually afraid. "After everything I've done for you, you were just gonna leave me?"

Stiles gulps nervously, taking another step back. "N-no," he mutters, taking another deep breath to steady his voice, "No, that's not- I can't _stay_ here."

"Where are you even gonna go?" Theo asks in a snarl. "You think your friends want you?" Stiles' eyes widen, "They don't care about you. They don't care if you're dead." He grabs Stiles' wrist harshly.

Stiles pulls his bruising arm away. "They care about me," he defends quickly, not being able to bare thinking otherwise, "They're just.. they just haven't found me yet..."

Theo takes his arm again, squeezing where he dug his claws in earlier. "No one cares about you more than I do," he says darkly, voice gruff, "You belong to _me_. And I've been _very_ nice to you," He tightens his grip, making Stiles grunt in pain, "I've been trying to make you comfortable living here. And this is how you repay me?!"

"Let go of me-"

"I've killed hundreds of packs," he holds Stiles' arm so tight that Stiles is sure his bone crack. He cries out, falling to his knees, but Theo doesn't release him. "Do I need to kill your little pack to get you to understand who you belong to."

Stiles' eyes widen. "No, you can't!" Theo continues to stare at him with red eyes, until Stiles says in a pained voice, "I'll be good, okay? I won't try to leave again, I'm sorry, okay, I'm sorry."

Theo stares at him for another moment before letting his arm go. Stiles takes a deep breath, cradling the limb to his chest. He wonders momentarily if it's broken, but he's mostly focused on the fact that Theo just threatened to kill his pack. Theo huffs, eyes fading back to blue as he runs a hand over his face. "Maybe I shouldn't have trusted you so soon," Theo says, anger disappearing. He sighs, "That's fine. Now I know." He runs a hand through Stiles' hair, the action extremely domintating. Theo has all the control now. He can do anything and there's nothing Stiles' can do to stop it. And that thought is terrifying. Then he takes his phone out of his pocket, muttering, "I need to call Tracy," before leaving the livingroom and entering the kitchen.

Stiles stays on his knees for a moment, just staring ahead of him. Then he rubs a hand over his face, taking a deep breath. His arm hurts. Not as much as his shoulder did after Donovan bit him, but still pretty bad. He sits on his butt, leaning against the couch behind him and holds his arm. He shouldn't have tried to escape. Well, thinking in hindsight, he just shouldn't have gone out with Donovan in the first place. But there's no going back now. And maybe Theo's right. Scott should've found him by now. Maybe he hasn't noticed he's been gone for three weeks. Or maybe he just doesn't care...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment on where you'd like this to gooo!!!!!! I need some suggestions, kind of blanking on the next chapter.
> 
> Also leave me a comment on what you liked best in this chapter!


	6. Trust

Lydia wakes up to the sound of a zipper being done. She sits up, squinting her eyes in the darkness. Malia next to her remains completely asleep, not even shifting. "Scott?" She asks, seeing Scott putting on his jacket in the middle of the hotel room. He turns to her in surprise as she asks, "What are you doing?"

Scott sighs. "I couldn't sleep," he says, "I can't stop thinking about Stiles. We should be out looking for him."

"Scott," Lydia says, standing up from the uncomfortable hotel room bed. Outside the only window is the lit up city. They've narrowed where Stiles could possibly be to three cities, and since this is the closest they've decided to check here first. But it wasn't that close, as it took a couple hours to get in. "It's late. We're all tired. We just need to get some rest and we'll start looking in the morning."

Scott sighs again. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed. He's visibly exhausted. He probably hasn't had a good nights sleep in weeks, not since he's come back from Mexico. "What if he doesn't have until the morning?" He asks worriedly, looking down at the carpet, "What if whoever that guy is.. what if he's hurting him right now?"

Lydia takes a deep breath, taking a seat next to Scott. She puts a comforting hand on his knee, saying, "We're going to find him, Scott. Tomorrow, we'll look for him. But now you need sleep. You're not gonna be any good to Stiles weak."

Scott looks back up at her with sad eyes. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have made him go on that date. He knew there was something off with Donovan... I should've listened."

Lydia looks away. That's been on her mind a lot too lately. They're the ones who convinced him to give Donovan another chance. And then.. this. The little room, the shoulder, all of the blood. But they can't think about that now. All they focus on is searching the city. "You still don't have his scent?" Lydia asks, carefully changing the topic. 

Scott shakes his head. "No. I can't find it anywhere.. it's like it's gone." Lydia sighs. Scott looks up from the ground, asking in a desperate voice, "Can you still feel him? Feel his.. presence?" Lydia nods. It's vague, but she can sort of sense him. Just enough to know that he's alive. That's the only real hope they have at some point. Scott continues, "Is he in pain?"

Lydia touches her shoulder without thinking. She can't tell him about the pain. It'll only hurt him. He's the alpha, he needs to be on the top of his game for when they do eventually find Donovan or whoever the guy in her drawing is. "He's alive. And that's all we need." She answers. Scott sighs again. "This will all be over soon, I know it. And once he's back we can take him to that diner he loves, and then we can watch all of the Star Wars movies with him. It'll be great." She forces a smile, despite how that all seems like a fantasy at this point. Scott laughs, face lighting up at the thought. Then he places his hand on Lydia's thigh gently, friendly.

Lydia doesn't know what comes over her, but as soon as Scott's hand touches her panic flows through his body. She screams, waking Malia and shocking Scott. Lydia scurries backwards off of the bed, needing desperately to get away from the hand, fear making her entire body go icy. "Stop it, stop it, please don't-" she's saying uncontrollably. She doesn't even know what she's afraid of.

_And then she's not in the hotel room anymore. She's sitting on the ground, back against a leather couch. She looks around for a moment. It's that same high rise apartment as in her first vision. She's cold, and wet, her clothes soaked._

_Lydia whimpers, feeling pain in her arm. She touches it, blood coming back on her fingers. There are claw marks on her sleeve covered arm, like a werewolf dug their nails into her flesh. She can feel fear in the pit of her gut. She glances over the couch and sees someone in the kitchen, talking into a phone. She's afraid of him but she has no idea why. Maybe he's the werewolf who hurt her._

_She stands without thinking. It's like she can't control her body, like she's just an observer. She watches the guy nervously, only seeing the back of his head. He finally hangs up the call and turns. He's the guy in the drawing, Lydia recognizes him immediately. And he's angry._

_"I'm sorry." She says, the words forced from her body. They sound shaky and broken to her ears. And her hand is still on her wounded arm, clutching at the claw marks._

_The guy, whoever he is, stares at her in anger for a moment. Then he shakes his head, huffing out a frustrated breath. "I know you are. But you do know I can't ignore this, don't you?" He walks up to her, the only thing seperating them the couch. "You completely broke my trust."_

_Lydia swallows nervously. She doesn't even know what they're talking about, or what she's sorry about, but she knows she wants to be forgiven. Needs to be forgiven._

_"I've tried really hard to make you comfortable here. I don't ask you for much. And I've been very patient with you." He shakes his head again, "What's it gonna take? Do I really have to take away all your freedom to make you behave? Because I don't want to do that, Stiles, but I will if I-"_

_"No," Lydia says instantly, though she knows it's not her. This is Stiles, she's just a passanger in his body. "No, you don't have to do that. I'll be.. good," the word sounds foreign and wrong in her mouth, but she says it to appease him. The thought of being locked up, whatever that entails, is terrifying._

_"Good." The werewolf says. He huffs again, pushing the wet blond hair back from his forehead. "Let me see your arm," he walks over, putting his hand out expectantly. Lydia hands her arm over, letting the werewolf examine it. The apartment dispears then, dissolving back into the hotel room, where she's still on the floor._

Lydia just sits on the floor for a moment, hands shaking. "Lydia, are you okay?" Malia says. Lydia looks up. Both werewolves staring at her like she's crazy. She takes a deep breath, calming herself down a bit. "What happened?" Scott asks, concern filling his voice and face.

Lydia shakes her head. "I don't- I don't know.." she mutters, confused.

__

"Who's Theo?" Malia asks, turning to Scott. Scott looks at Lydia. Lydia tilts her head to the side in confusion. Malia explains, "You yelled 'Theo'. Who is that?"

__

Lydia's jaw clenches shut. "He's the one in the drawing." She looks up, "He's the one who's keeping Stiles."

__

 

__

Stiles watches from the couch as Theo drills another screw into the wall, standing on a chair to reach where the wall meets the ceiling. Stiles' eyes the camera he's installing. It's a fucking nanny cam. Stiles sighs as Theo finishes installing it, hopping down from his chair. He looks between all of the cameras he put up, one in front of thr door, one in the livingroom and one in the hall.

__

"Is this really necessary?" Stiles asks. Theo grabs something else from the counter, something metal.

__

"Aparently it is." Theo answers, walking back down the hall to the bedroom. Stiles stands, following after him. He leans against the bathroom doorframe, watching Theo put the metal against the door and start drilling again. Looking closer Stiles can see that he's installing a swing lock on the door. Stiles swallows.

__

"You're gonna lock me in the bedroom whenever you leave now?" Stiles asks nervously. The thought of being trapped again, alone in a room with no food or water or a bathroom is making Stiles' stomach turn. 

__

Theo finishes drilling the lock in, then tests it a few times. Looks pretty steardy. Then he turns to Stiles, saying, "If I have to," he steps up to Stiles, adding, "But I think it'll be better for both of us if you stay in my sight. You're obviously too tempted to leave when you're on your own. So I'll make it easier for you."

__

He walks past Stiles, back into the livingroom. He puts his drill onto the coffee table as Stiles follows him in. "I'm not gonna try to leave again." Stiles says, which is true. He's not gonna try to leave. He's too afraid too. Theo threatened to kill the pack. And that's something Stiles can't let happen, even though he's a little mad at them for not finding him yet. For possibly not even looking.

__

"I know you mean that now," Theo says, turning back to him, "But obviously you get too restless and you need to be watched. It's for your own good." Stiles sighs. Theo cocks his head to Stiles' arm, asking in a genuinely concerned voice, "Does that still hurt?"

__

Stiles wraps his hand around his hurt arm. It's not that painful. After Theo calmed down last night, he cleaned it up and bandaged it. "Yeah, you dug your claws into it." He says anyways, voice full of spite.

__

"I wouldn't have had to if you didn't run out of the building the first chance you got." Theo argues back, clearly still pissed about last night. But before Stiles can retort, Theo's phone suddenly chimes from his pocket. He picks it up with a huff, glances down at it, then sighs. "Get your shoes on," Theo says, "I have to take care of something."

Stiles swallows, walking into the bedroom and grabbing his shoes from the closet. This whole 'not leaving you alone' thing is bittersweet because while Stiles wants to get out the apartment and have something to do but be bored, he also doesn't want to be involved with the stuff Theo does. He's a criminal. He sells drugs, runs an underground fighting ring, and claims he's killed multiple packs. He's _dangerous_. Even if he was the one who saved Stiles from Donovan.

Stiles leaves the room, going back into the livingroom, where Theo is putting on a hoodie. He throws Stiles his usual jacket, and watches as he pulls it on. "Come on," Theo says, holding his hand out. Stiles rolls his eyes before taking it and being led to the front door. "Close your eyes," he says expectantly, opening the door to the security keypad. He changed the code, of course, not that Stiles was even going to use it again. Stiles huffs out an annoyed breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

"You don't have to treat me like I'm a kid." Stiles says with his eyes still closed. He listens to Theo push in the new digits.

"Then don't act like one." Theo says simply. He must press enter because the alarm chimes and he can hear the door open. 

 

Theo watches the buildings fly by through the windsheild as they drive on the bridge, out of the city. He glances at Stiles in the passengers seat, staring out of his window, almost longingly. Theo sighs.

He understands why Stiles tried to run away, he really does. He's going stir crazy. It was bound to happen eventually. And Theo should've seen the signs sooner. He rearranged the furniture in the living room three times, cleaned the entire apartment, cooked dinner. And it didn't help that Theo went a little too far when they were making out and scared the crap out of him. Theo wasn't surprised to find Stiles outside of the building, but he was a little angry.

He really started to trust Stiles. That's his fault, he knows. He's really fallen for the broken little human. So of course thinking that Stiles didn't want him back drove him a little crazy. But it's okay, because now he knows that he has to keep a constant eye on Stiles and be a less lenient with him, more strict. At least until he truly earns his trust back.

"What do you have to 'take care of'?" Stiles asks, still watching the city grow smaller and smaller from outside of the window. So curious. He just wants to know everything. It's kind of cute.

"Just some pack of werecoyotes outside of the city," Theo answers. He's slowly been letting Stiles in on the buisness. Bits and pieces at a time, of course, baby steps. Stiles can be a real asset, and Theo doesn't want it to feel forced. That's part of the reason why keeping a constant eye on him as punishment won't be a bad thing. "I want something from them."

Stiles' eyes search Theo's body for a moment. "What do you want?" He asks, nosy as always. 

"Wolfsbane laced bullets," Theo says simply. It's not really something he'd like to do, something so menial, he shouldn't even be taking care of this, but Tracy is off dealing with a problem at the ring and since this is important Theo doesn't trust any of the other idiots who work for him to do it. 

Stiles nods, turning back to the window. Another interesting thing about Stiles is that he's not fazed by many things. The whole criminal buisness, the drugs, the fighting ring, he's not afraid of it. Which is another thing that draws Theo to him, not surprisingly. It's difficult to find a perfect match when you're the alpha of a pack of criminals, but Stiles is shaping up to be exactly that. 

They only drive about 10 minutes out of the city, to a small clearing covered in sand. Josh's car is there, with Josh, Hayden and Corey standing against it, glaring at the pack of werecoyotes who are standing about thirty feet away, their alpha in the center, smug look on his face.

"Stay by the car," Theo says to Stiles before he steps out. Stiles follows nervously, leaning against the car as Theo steps up to his pack. "Do you have it?" He asks the alpha with black hair, who's dressed like he's a highschooler in a 'gang' that just got a switchblade for the first time. Ridiculous. 

The alpha cocks his head to one of his betas. The beta takes a duffle bag out of the car and hands it to the alpha. "You got the money?" He asks, tilting his head. 

Theo looks to Josh. He grabs his own black bag from his trunk, one that's filled with thousands of dollars. "Give it to him." Theo instructs. Josh walks over and they trade bags, the coyote alpha aggressively snatching the bag of money. Josh hands the duffle bag to Theo, the black bag heavy in his hands. He drops it down on the sand and unzips it carefully. Inside are hundred of tiny silver bullets. The smell of them is heavy, like gasoline stuck in his nose, the undeniable stench of wolfsbane. He picks one up and examines it. Then he picks up a silver pistol from the bag and places a bullet inside. 

"This isn't all we agreed on." The alpha snarls out, throwing the bag of money on the ground and shining his red eyes. Theo simply stands, running a finger over the gun. 

"It's enough," Theo cocks the gun, looking it over in his hand casually, "The price Tracy agreed on was too much. It's five thousand or nothing."

The alpha growls. Then his eyes find Stiles. "What?" He asks, "Spend all your money on your new little bitch?"

Stiles looks down uncomfortably, scent filling with embarrassment. Theo tilts his head at the alpha. Something extremely protective in his mind activates, making him want to rip this alpha apart for making Stiles feel anything negative. The alpha must not sense Theo's growing anger because he continues, "Heard you found him fucked out of his mind and half eaten. Is that true?" He laughs. Stiles' hands curl up into fists as he stares intensely at the sand below him. 

Theo raises the gun and shoots him in the head without any thought or hesitation. No one talks to _his_ Stiles like that. The two other coyotes that were with him shift, going after Josh, Corey, and Hayden. They take the two down easily, ripping their throats out. They're not smart, but they know how to kill, and that's all that matters. 

Theo simply puts his gun back into the bag and zips it when it's over, turning to Josh and saying, "Take the money back." As Josh rushes over to grabs the bag out of the bloody mess they caused, Theo turns back to his car. Stiles is staring at the scene with wide, surprised eyes. He turns to Theo with the same look. "Get in the car." Theo instructs in a calm voice, opening the back door to put the bag of bullets in. Stiles stares at him for a just a second before getting back in the car. Theo smirks to himself, saying to Hayden, "Take care of this mess."

 

Stiles stares out the window at the convience store, the city outline just behind it, lit up against the night sky. He can see Theo inside the store, at the register. There is a bag full of wolfsbane bullets and a gun in the seats behind him, and for the life of him he can't figure out why he hasn't taken it yet. One bullet, that's all it would take. Then he could go home, and just try to forget all of this ever happened. But he hasn't taken the gun and he can't bring himself to. He hasn't even considered running, which is something he can do right now, as the car door isn't locked.

Theo leaves the convenient store with a bag and enters the car again. "Here," he says, handing Stiles a big candy bar with a smile. Stiles takes it, muttering, "Thanks." It's like a treat for not freaking out when he murdered three people right in front of him in cold blood. Or maybe a reward for not running when he had the chance to just now. Stiles can't tell, and doesn't know which he prefers. 

Theo pulls out a sports drink from his bag and drinks it casually. Like he didn't just shoot a guy in the head. After a long sip he turns to Stiles and asks, "What's wrong? You haven't said anything since we started driving."

Stiles sighs. What the fuck isn't wrong? Theo killed someone. Just shot him. And then his pack killed two other guys like it was nothing, just ripped their throats out. But the worst part about it is Stiles feels no remorse. Theo killed him because he was an asshole to him. Because he was making Stiles feel anxious and angry and uncomfortable. It's the weirdest thing, and Stiles has no idea how to feel about it. 

Theo sighs before he can answer. "You're scared?" He asks.

Stiles shakes her head. "No, no, that's not.." he huffs before continuing, "I'm not _scared_."

"You were scared last night." Theo says. Stiles swallows, looking down. That's not... okay, yes, he was scared. He didn't want Theo to force him to.. do _that_. Theo continues, "I know I freaked you out. But I can't have you running away everytime you get a little scared."

"I didn't run because of you." Stiles admits, looking back up. Theo tilts his head, so Stiles continues, "Well- not.. not _just_ because of you." He sighs, rubbing his hand against his forehead in frustration, "Yeah, I was scared, but that wasn't the only reason. I can't be.. I can't be your pet, Theo, okay?" Theo's eyebrows raise, "I'm not good at following orders, or being submissive. I'm not.. I-I'm just not like that, my brain isn't wired that way." He sighs again, "And I can't just stay in one place, doing nothing for the rest of my life. I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."

Stiles takes a deep breath he didn't realize he needed. It feels incredibly good to get that off his chest. But now that it's out in the open, he's terrified that Theo will be angry that he doesn't want to stay with him. Theo turns from him and looks at the steering wheel instead. It's impossible to read what he's thinking. Finally, he breaks the silence, and asks, "Is that really what you think of me?" Stiles narrows his eyes in confusion. Theo looks back up, and continues, "That I want you to be submissive?"

"...It's not like you want me to be independent." Stiles retorts back. 

Theo turns away again. He stares out the window for a long time. Thinking, perhaps. About what, Stiles has absolutely no idea. Then out of nowhere he says, "I've never loved anything before." Stiles looks over, but Theo doesn't make eye contact, continuing, "I wasn't close to my family. They didn't really..." he shakes his head, "Doesn't matter." He looks over at last, "I love you, Stiles. I care about you more than anything. And the last thing I want is for you to be unhappy."

Stiles just stares at him for a moment, eyes wide. He tries to process everything he just heard. And once he does he's confused. Confused as to why the thought of Theo being in love with him is both amazing and terrifying. Somehow it makes this all feel real. Before, it's like he was waiting patiently for this whole thing to end, for Scott to save him, to escape, for everything to just somehow working out like it always does. But this isn't just going to end. It's a very real, and likely possibility that he's going to spend the rest of his life with Theo... and that isn't entirely unappealing. No, Stiles isn't physically attracted to him, but he is emotionally. Theo was right, they get along really well. They have this connection, which might just he because he saved him from suffering and certain death, but it's there nonetheless. 

"I don't want some obedient pet," Theo says, interrupting Stiles' thoughts. "I want _you_. Exactly how you are."

Stiles nods shakily. He's playing with the ring on his finger, leg shaking up and down uncontrollably. "I'll give you more stuff to do. I could use your help on a few things." Theo offers. He puts his hand on Stiles' knee to stop his shaking, making Stiles look up, "Things aren't always gonna be like this. You're still adjusting. We're still working out the kinks. But I'm going to give you more freedom eventually. Once we can trust eachother."

Stiles nods again, looking back to his knees. Theo smiles, leaning over to place a soft kiss on Stiles' cheek. "It's okay," he says quietly with a small laugh, "You don't have to say it back yet. I just needed you to know."

Stiles doesn't look back up as Theo starts the car and drives out of the convenience store parking lot. They drive back into the city in silence, the only sound in the car a quiet song playing on the radio. Stiles watches the city buildings fly by, thinking everything over. He's not gonna try and leave again. And it's not just out of fear this time. Stiles sighs and rests his head against the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey leave me a comment on where you'd like this to go, your thoughts on it currently and your favorite part!! I really love reading your comments! 
> 
> Also, I'm not sure if I've ever said but go follow my tumblr if you want, it's 'steoxthiles'. I post lots of steo stuff there. Send me an ask with prompts if you want! I'd love that! <3


	7. Romance

Lydia stares at the drawing of Theo pinned on the wall of Stiles' bedroom, surrounded by various pictures of different cities and red strings. A sort of detective board, though not as good as Stiles could've made it. It's officially been a month since Stiles' gone missing. They searched three cities and couldn't find Stiles, Donovan, or this mysterious Theo. The fact that this not just anyone keeping Stiles captive, but a werewolf has only lowered the pack's hope. That's why it's been almost three days since they returned from their latest search and they haven't done anything since.

Lydia can't help but wonder what Stiles is doing right this very moment. Her last vision was confusing. He's not chained up or trapped in that small, bloody room anymore. He seems to have a small bit of freedrom, but he was still hurt and afraid. Afraid of Theo. It's hard to know the entire situation without context, but from what she could tell Theo was angry at him for misbehaving. It was all just strange, especially Stiles' conflicting feelings on Theo.

Lydia knows there's more to the story she doesn't know yet. She suspects that Stiles has been sexually abused, just by the way she freaked out when Scott touched her leg. She hasn't told Scott that part yet, though. It'll crush him, he feels guilty enough as it is. He's the alpha, he should be completely focused on finding Stiles as quickly as they can. But the thought of getting him back is becoming more and more of a dream with every passing second.

Lydia sighs, standing from the desk chair. She wishes she could just trigger visions that could help them, but apparently her powers just don't work that way. It's beyond frustrating.

Lydia's phone vibrates on the table. She picks it up and when she sees Scott's number she immediately picks it up. "Did you find something?" She asks, knowing Scott and Malia were going to talk to Deaton today, see if he might know anything that could help track Stiles.

"Deaton thinks he knows who Theo is," Scott says, making Lydia's eyes widen in surprise, "He knows a Theo who has a big pack in Fairview, I'll explain it all later, can you bring the drawing down here?"

"Yeah, of course," Lydia says quickly, unpinning the drawing and grabbing it, along with her purse that's sitting on Stiles' bed, "I'll be right there." She hangs up then, rushing from the apartment. Something unfamilar comes alive inside of her for the first time in a while- hope.

 

Theo plays with a bullet between his fingers as Tracy talks to him about how much money they've made on drug sales this week. He glances over at the corner of the empty office and sees Stiles sitting at a small desk, still busily sorting through files since they got here a few hours ago. Theo smiles slightly, then looks back to Tracy, who carefully avoids commenting on it. "And Josh is going tonight to pick up the money," she says as Theo zones back into conversation. She swallows, then glances at Stiles. "That's all."

Theo hums. "You can go." He instructs. Tracy leaves without saying another word. Theo stares at Stiles for a moment from his seat, just the two of them in the big, dark office. Then he stands with a smirk, sauntering over to the small desk. Stiles doesn't notice, concentrating fully on the papers in front of him as Theo steps up to the him, resting his hands flat on the desk. As soon as they got here, Theo stuck Stiles in the corner and dropped a big stack of unorganized files, imstructing him to sort them in alphabetical order. He's the one who said he was frustrated that he had nothing to do. Theo didn't realize he'd get so into it, though.

"Hey," Theo says in an attempt to get Stiles' attention. Stiles only makes a small noise in response, looking through a few sheets of paper, reading them over. "We can go home now, the meeting's over." Stiles nods slightly, not really paying attention. Theo sighs. "Stiles," he says intently, cupping a hand under Stiles' chin and lifting it with a little more force then he intended. Stiles finally looks at him as Theo says with a small laugh, "I didn't realize you loved sorting files so much."

Stiles swallows. "Was this your pack?" He asks, pulling his chin away and holding up a sheet of paper. Theo takes it and reads it over. It's a police report of when a few of Theo's low-level betas got arrested for robbing a bank. And killing seven people. Not exactly a great moment, but Theo took care of it.

"Yeah," Theo mutters, dropping the paper into the manilla folder Stiles was organizing. He takes Stiles' hand a little roughly and pulls him to his feet, saying, "I told you to organize them, not read through them." Stiles sighs. "You're too curious for your own good, you know," Theo says, walking back to the main desk and grabbing the map from on the table as Stiles pulls on his jacket.

"Yeah, says you and everyone who's ever known me," Stiles zips up the jacket halfway, the black fabric slightly hanging off of his body. Theo should probably buy him his own clothes at some point, but he just loves Stiles being covered in his scent. Stiles walks up to the desk a monent later and waits for Theo to put the rolled up map away. At least, that's what Theo thinks he's doing, but as soon as he turns around he sees Stiles staring intently at the bulletin board in the middle of the room. 

"Stiles." Theo says exasperatedly, walking over to the elevator door. 

"Yeah, okay," Stiles mutters, taking one last look at the board with interest before walking over to the elevator. When the door opens they both step in. Stiles stands in the corner, looking down with hands in his pockets. Theo stares at him for a moment as they slowly go down.

"What's wrong with you?" Theo asks. He thought Stiles would be happy. This entire plan of making Stiles stay with him constantly, never leaving his sight, is hardly a punishment. Stiles obviously doesn't like being cooped up in the house all day, alone and bored. So why isn't Stiles happy?

Stiles plays with a loose thread hanging off the hoodie. "The board," he starts, swallowing nervously, "It had.. a pack on it," he looks up slightly, probably to gauge Theo's reaction, "You're- you're planning to k-kill them?" 

Theo thinks back to the board, at the small pack of werecoyotes that have been snooping around. Yes, he is planning to get rid of them, probably make Donovan do it. But he knows this pack isn't what Stiles is actually worried about. "I'm not gonna kill your old pack, Stiles." He says. Stiles finally looks up at Theo. "Not if you behave." he continues, voice remaining calm, "As long as you're good I won't touch them."

Stiles rubs his hands together. "I _am_ being good." He says, obviously uncomfortable at the words.

Theo smiles. "Yeah, I know." He says kindly. Stiles has been trying to be good, Theo knows. Ever since he ran away the first time, he's been making an effort to be 'good'. Theo left him alone in a car with a gun and a bag full of bullets, and Stiles didn't even attempt to leave. It's a start. "I know you've been trying, and I appreciate that," he says, running his thumb across Stiles' jaw. He thinks for a moment, then says, "You deserve a reward. So how about tomorrow night I take you to a nice dinner?"

Stiles' eyes widen and his head snaps over. "What?" He asks, voice cracking a bit. He swallows, quickly adding, "Like a _date_?"

Theo smirks. "Yeah, like a date." He says with a small chuckle. "Does that sound good?"

Stiles coughs, looking away. "Uh.. yeah," he says, scratching the back of his head. Theo smiles again, patting Stiles' back. There's really been a lack of romance between them, and the most physical activity they've done was a hand job, so this will be the perfect oppurtunity to do more of both. And Theo really loves the subtle blush filling Stiles' pale cheeks at the idea. 

 

Stiles looks around the crowded resturant. It's fancy, probably pretty expensive, judging by the rich looking people around him eating. Theo can of course afford it, he lives at the top of a high-end apartment after all. Stiles was more than a little surprised when Theo told him that they were going on a date. He said it was a reward for good behavior, but even then it just seems _strange_. Stiles supposes they are technically a couple. Just a super unhealthy one, where there's no way out. Before it felt like they were in their own bubble, but now it seems more real for some reason.

Stiles glances behind him, at where Theo went off when he recieved a phone call. He could leave right now. Or maybe find a phone, he's surrounded by rich people who definitely have cell phones on them. But some part of Stiles feels that this little outing is not _just_ a reward, but a test as well. He's been working his ass off, trying to be 'good'. It's mostly just to protect the pack, since he knows what Theo is capable of (but some part of him needs desperately to be forgiven, needs to know he's safe with Theo), but Theo still doesn't trust him. If he leaves now, or even attempts anything, all of this will be for nothing and Theo will punish him. 

Stiles thankfully doesn't have anymore time to debate making a run for it as Theo returns to the table, saying a simple, "Sorry, it was Josh," with an eye roll, sitting down. He's dressed nice as always, wearing black skinny jeans and a blue dotted button down. Theo puts his elbows on the table and smiles, saying, "Weren't too lonely without me, I hope."

Stiles rolls his eyes, taking a sip of champagne. Theo smirks, tilting his head. "What? Do cheesy lines not work on you?"

Stiles swallows carefully. A small grin nearly crosses his face, but not quite. "Not really." He says back. Though, he doesn't really know. He hasn't been on many dates, and the last one he was on ended with him getting drugged, raped, and nearly eaten alive. 

Theo's smirk grows wider. He rests his head in his hands, saying, "Then what's your ideal date? What do you want to talk about?"

He wonders if Theo's intentionally giving him the power to make him feel more comfortable. He might be over thinking it, but Theo always knows what he's doing. "Tell me more about your pack." he says. Not exactly date talk, but Stiles' gnawing curiosity needs to he sated. He still feels pretty in the dark about exactly what Theo does, despite being taken to his work a few times. He tried to listen in last night, but Theo sat him in a dark corner and gave him menial work to keep him busy... which Stiles kind of got a little too focused on. ADHD fucking sucks. 

Theo takes a long sip of his champagne while keeping eye contact with Stiles. He carefully places his glass onto the table, then asks, "What about it?"

Stiles shrugs. "How many betas do you have? Are they all werewolves? Do they all work for you? Did you bite them all-"

"Okay," Theo says with a slight laugh, "That's a lot of questions. Okay.. I have twenty eight betas. No, some of them are werewcoyotes, one kitsunè, a couple of wendigos-" Stiles tenses, and Theo must notice, because he swiftly moves on, "Yes, they all work for me, all at different levels. Some work downtown, take care of the dirtier stuff, some take care of the ring, and the rest talk to other packs, make deals. And no, I didn't bite all of them."

Stiles nods slowly, taking in all of the information. The waitor comes over then, placing two plates in front of either of them. Theo ordered for him, but the food looks good nonetheless. He digs in immediately, stuffing food in his mouth with less class then is probably required for a nice restaurant like this. Theo takes a small bite of his pasta, watching Stiles carefully. "So," he says, "Good food, right?"

Stiles nods, stuffing a big piece of steak and shoving it into his mouth. The food could taste terrible, but between the whole starved for a week thing combined with anxiety medication that makes him hungry all the time, the food is amazing. Theo smiles, looking back to his food. "Good. This is for you, this is your reward."

Theo takes Stiles hands across the table then, making him look up from his food. Theo runs his thumb over Stiles' knuckles then rests it on the thin ring on his finger. "I know this is all hard, and it's going to be a while before you're used to it, but you've been really good lately, and I need you to know how much that means to me." He gives his hand a squeeze, "You know I'll never hurt you, right?"

Stiles rubs his arm, the one that Theo clawed viciously a week ago. Theo tilts his head, saying, "All I want is to protect you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you, that's why I got so upset when you left." He smiles, softly saying, "You're _mine_. And I take care of what's mine."

Stiles stares at him. He seems so genuine that Stiles has a hard time thinking he's anything but. But then Theo leans in a little, saying in a quiet voice, "I want you to keep this up, okay? Because I don't want to have to hurt you again."

Stiles nods quickly. Theo finally releases his hand, picking up his glass and taking a sip of the sparkling liquid. "I know why you did it, I do," Theo explains, sounding reasonable, "Your _pack_." He sighs, saying quietly, "But Stiles, they don't want you anymore. You know that, don't you?"

The thought of the pack not wanting him or caring about him is devastating. But it's been a month. An entire month. Scott's a true alpha, and even though that doesn't mean he can do _anything_ , but he can find people. Stiles honestly doesn't know which one is worse, no one knowing he's missing for all this time or no one looking. Still, though, he defends Scott, saying, "It's not that they don't want me, it's just..." he can't come up with an answer.

"It's okay." Theo says. "They don't want you, but you don't need them. You have me, now, and I'm never going to abandon you."

Stiles knows that should scare him, not having anyone else but Theo. But the thought isn't entirely unappealing. Just having Theo in his life... Stiles thinks about this as he takes another sip of champagne.

 

When they arrive home, Theo takes Stiles' jacket and throws it onto the couch. The date was nice, definitely a nice reward for being 'good'. Theo turns off the lights in the front room, saying, "I have one more surprise for you."

Stiles tilts his head. Theo smirks, taking his hand and pulling him over to the bedroom. "Close your eyes." He says, hand ghosting over the doorknob. Stiles sighs, letting his eyes fall shut. He hears Theo open the door and then leads him inside, closing it behind him. "Keep 'em closed," he says, almost excitedly as Stiles hears him walk around the room.

Stiles sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know, I'm not a giant fan of surprises," he says, rambling like he always does when he's nervous, "I had a surprise party when I was a kid, and I peed my pants, so..."

Theo's suddenly behind him again. "Well, I don't think that'll happen this time. Open."

Stiles opens his eyes and he is certainly surprised at what he sees. The lights are dimmed and the bed is surrounded by several lit candles, the only light illuminating the rose petal covered bed. It's straight out of a cliché romance movie. He swallows, looking it all over, not knowing what to say. "I set it up while you were in the shower before we left," Theo says happily into his ear. "We don't have to do anything," he assures him, "But.. if you want to, then-"

"I want to." Stiles says. He's not sure what makes him say it. Maybe it's his lingering feelings from dinner, or maybe it's all the trouble Theo went to to make this special. He doesn't know, but in this moment, he's attracted to Theo in a way he hasn't been before. He needs to feel good, feel like Theo really wants him like he says. 

Theo looks a little surprised for a moment. Then a small smile appears on his lips. He kisses Stiles then, softly. Stiles lets his hands rest on either of Theo's shoulders, and Theo wraps his arms around Stiles' waist. The kiss is slow, gentle. Theo's easing him into it, and Stiles appreciates that. 

After a moment, Theo lowers him onto the bed of rose petals. He pulls away for a moment, pulling off his button down shirt. His chest is chiseled, and his arms are thick. He leans back down and kisses Stiles again, this time with a bit more urgency as he unbuttons Stiles' shirt as well. Stiles get's a strange feeling in his gut, but tries to ignore it, reminding himself that this is Theo. When Theo finally pulls off his shirt, Stiles can't help but feel a little self conscious. His ribs are still slightly visible, the bite mark on his shoulder is no longer bandgaed but still very visible, and he has a few claw marks around his pelvis that he knows are going to scar. 

Theo doesn't care, though, as he moves to Stiles' neck and works his way down, leaving a trail of wet kisses. Stiles closes his eyes, resting his head against the bed. When Theo reaches Stiles' cock, he takes it out of his pants and gives it a single stroke, which in Stiles' worked up state is enough to get him hard. Theo pulls away again, this times standing. Stiles cracks an eye open and watches Theo recieve a bottle of lube from the bedside table. Stiles takes a deep breath, resting on his elbows and watching Theo carefully. 

Theo opens the bottle and squirts just a bit into his hand, before snapping it closed and tossing it on the bed. He returns to the spot between Stiles' legs and gives him a smirk before taking Stiles' cock and stroking it with his lubed hand. It feel really good. Stiles moans slightly, which he feels like he should be embarrassed about, but it only makes Theo's smirk grow wider. "You like that?" Theo asks, returning to his position right on top of Stiles while he continues to stroke.

Stiles nods, toes curling. He feels like he won't last that much longer, but then Theo stops stroking and leaves his cock resting against his belly. He pulls Stiles' pants and underwear all th way down, then, leaving Stiles completely naked. Stiles shifts, swallowing anxiously. He still has some nasty bruises in between his thighs, some scratch marks too. To say Stiles is self-conscious is an understatement. He hates his body, hates the bruises and marks that just won't go away. Theo is staring at the marks and all Stiles wants to do is curl up and hide.

Theo surprises him again by going down and kissing the insides of his thighs. Stiles watches as Theo kisses each individual mark and bruise. Stiles stares in complete surprise and amazement. Then Theo pulls away again, unzipping his jeans and pulling them off. He leaves his underwear on for the time being, but Stiles can tell that he's hard too.

"You have no idea," Theo says, fingers trailing past Stiles' thighs down to his ass, "How long I've wanted to do this." His finger stops at Stiles' hole, then looks at Stiles intently and asks, "Do you want this?"

Stiles takes in a sharp breath. "Y-yeah?" He says.

That seems to be enough for Theo as he pushes in a lubed finger. It hurts, but just for a moment. Once Theo's entire finger is in, he lets it rest for a moment, letting Stiles adjust. Stiles takes another deep breath. He stares at Theo's face the whole time because if he doesn't, he'll start freaking out. He needs to know Theo's doing this, because he trusts Theo. Theo's face is full of lust. 

"How does that feel?" Theo asks, eyes moving from what he's doing to Stiles' face. 

One of Stiles' hands is gripping the blanket. "... weird?" He answers, unsure. The feelings in that weird place of not hurting, but not being comfortable. He doesn't want it out, but he wouldn't mind if it was. 

Theo nods, pulling the finger out, only to work it back in again. "Do you want another finger?" He asks carefully. 

Stiles shakes his head. This is about all he take right now, even turned on. Theo runs his other hand over Stiles' thigh, saying a gentle, "That's okay. We don't have to go all the way tonight. This is your night, baby, I want it to feel good."

He pulls his finger out then, instead moving to his boxers and pulling them off. His cock is pretty thick, but not terribly long, and he has some hair that leads up to his bellybutton in a happy trail. Stiles watches him very carefully, almost afraid Theo will shove his dick in anyways and make him take it. Of course he doesn't, instead moving them a bit so they're in the middle of the bed and Stiles' legs are wrapped around his middle. He gives his cock a few stroke before putting it against Stiles' and taking them both into his hand. Stiles moans a little louder this time as he strokes, letting his head fall against the bed. 

It doesn't take long before he cums all over himself and Theo, but Theo continues to stroke him through it. "Fuck," Stiles murmurs, toes curling and hand' tightening their grip on the sheets. "Theo," he says in a pathetically wrecked voice, legs shaking him the overstimulation.

Theo smirks again, sweating, lust clear on his face. He gives both their cocks a few good strokes and then he's coming as well. He closes his eyes and groan, throwing his head back. His cum goes mostly on Stiles' chest, but Stiles feels way too good to care at the moment. Theo releases him after his orgasm's over, letting his legs fall back to the bed. He places a kiss on Stiles' sweaty forehead, saying, "You did so good, baby." 

Stiles face is bright red, he can feel it. He takes another deep breath before sitting up. He looks at his cum covered chest then reaches for the box of tissues on his bedside table. Theo grabs his arm before he can reach it, saying in a raspy, still lust filled voice, "Leave it."

Stiles looks him up and down. "Fine," he says, not really in the mood to argue about it right now. Theo pulls him onto his chest, and they both lay there in silence for a while, Theo petting his head and Stiles listening to his heartbeat. Stiles feels like he's on cloud 9. He feels better than he has in a long time, even before his date with Donovan. He feels light, like nothing bad will ever happen again.

 

Lydia looks over the map that Deaton layed out on the metal table in his office, Malia, Scott and Kira all standing around it. "Theo lives in this city," Scott says, pointing at the map, "Deaton doesn't know where exactly, but he knows that Donovan lives at this address," he points to a building circled in red. "If we find Donovan, he'll lead us to Theo."

"But Theo's dangerous." Kira adds, which makes Scott sigh and look down. "He has a really big pack, and they've killed a lot before. We have to be careful."

"When do we leave?" Lydia asks Scott, anxious to get Stiles back as soon as possible. It's not like they have a solid plan (Stiles always did all the planning) but this is the first lead they've gotten in a while. 

"Tonight," Scott says, rolling up the map and taking it, "We'll all meet at my place in an hour, then we'll drive in tonight, it's not that far." 

Lydia nods. She takes the drawing of Theo leaning on the desk, though she has a pretty good idea of what he looks like from her vision, and folds it up, stuffing it into her pocket. As they leave Lydia sees someone sitting in the waiting room on their phone, suspiciously lacking a pet in a vet's office. She doesn't give it a second thought, too excited about the prospect of finally bringing Stiles' home. 

 

Theo runs his fingers through Stiles' hair with one hand, the other rubbing circles into Stiles' back. He can't help but smile down at the sleeping boy. He's so perfect. Theo figured he wouldn't be ready to have full sex yet, but he tried really hard to be good, and Theo really loves that. It still felt good, though it was difficult to not turn Stiles over and fuck him into the mattress. Patience, he reminds himself. Stiles is the best kind of prize, the one you have to work for. 

The romantic moment is cut short when Theo's phone rings. He huffs, ready to kill whoever is calling and wrecking this. He sits up slowly, carefully placing Stiles onto the bed without waking him, then grabs his phone from the floor and walks from the bedroom, closing the door behind him. "What?" He says to Josh when he picks up.

"Sorry," Josh says immediately, "I just thought you'd want to know that that pack you told me to watch?" Theo tilts his head, "They found the city and they're coming for Stiles."

Theo stares blankly ahead for a moment, anger filling him. "How close are they?"

"They checked into a hotel for the night, but they don't know where you live. I think they're planning on seeing Donovan tomorrow."

"Fuck," Theo mutters, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face. "Okay. Let them, tell Donovan to clean up that room and to deny everything. We'll figure out what to do with them then."

"Okay." Josh says before Theo hangs up. He huffs out a frustrated breath. He just wanted one romatic night, and now he has to deal with this mess? He sighs, going back into the bedroom. Stiles is sitting up when he enters. Theo sighs, saying, "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No.. well, yeah, but it's fine, I'm not a heavy sleeper," he rambles. Theo places his phone on the bedside table and goes back onto his spot on the bed. Stiles shoots him a suspicious look and asks, "What's wrong?"

Theo sighs again. "Nothing, baby, just work," he caresses Stiles cheek, saying, "You don't have to worry about it. C'mere," he opens his arms and Stiles lays in them. He runs his fingers through Stiles' hair again, letting his scent calm him. He'll take care of this. This is the last obstacle, once it's done, Stiles will truly be all his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I didn't get many comments on the last chapter, so please, if you enjoy this leave me a nice long comment! Or any comment at all!! That's my favorite part about writing, the feedback!! Thank you so much, hope you're all still enjoying and let me know if you enjoyed this chapter!!!! Also please tell me where you want this to go next!!! Kind of having a little writers block. <3


	8. Hunger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, leave me some comments!! Having kind of a writers block :/

"Are we sure this is the right place?" Kira asks, walking behind Scott in the narrow staircase, nervously looking around at the grimy walls. The apartment building that's supposedly Donovan's is in a bad, empty neighborhood, surrounded by abandoned factories and run down apartment buildings. Lydia got a strange feeling in her chest the moment she stepped inside, letting her know that yes, this is Donovan's building, and yes, Stiles was here.

"This is where Deaton said," Scott says, leading the way up the stairs. When they finally reach the second floor, they find apartment number 20. Scott takes in a sharp breath. He's in pain. They're so close to finding Stiles, but the terrible look of this place is making Lydia at least lose some of the hope she had the night before. Scott hesitates only a moment longer before knocking at the door with too much force, making the wood crack a little beneath his fist.

The door opens a second later, and a guy with somewhat shaggy, greasy black hair is standing on the other side. Scott growls the moment he sees him, grabbing his throat and pushes him back into the apartment. Lydia's eyes widen in surprise as her, Kira, and Malia rush in after them just in time to see Scott slam who Lydia assumes is Donovan against one of the walls. She's never seen Scott so angry before, so irrational.

"What the fuck?!" Donovan spits out at Scott, wrapping a weak hand around the one pinning him to the wall. Some other guy comes from the kitchen, trying to help, but Malia flashes her eyes and growls at him, making him take a step backwards. 

"Where's Stiles?!" Scott yells, tightening a clawed hand against his throat. "Where is he?!" 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Donovan wheezes out, finally managing to push Scott away. He takes in a pained breath, rubbing his throat.

"Stiles." Scott growls out between clenched teeth, eyes glowing a piercing red. "You took him, so where the hell is he?!"

"I didn't take anyone," Donovan says, voice annoyed, "I dropped your friend off after our second date, and he never called me back. Why the hell would he be here?!"

"You're lying," Lydia snaps, stepping up to Donovan. This place feels familiar. Stiles was in pain here. Donovan hurt him. Donovan narrows his eyes, as Lydia says, "He was here, and now he's with _Theo_ ," Donovan looks a bit surprised at the name, "So tell us where he is."

"Listen, lady," Donovan says dismissively, "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you don't know anything," he pushes Lydia at the shoulder, making her stumble backwards. Malia growls visciously at him, stepping foward with her teeth bared and claws out. Kira catches Lydia before she can fall, but Lydia hardly notices, too focused on the hallway and the familiar white cracked door at the end of it. She stands, turning back to Donovan and saying, "Okay, then, what's in that room?"

Donovan crosses his arms over his chest. "Nothing. Go see for yourself."

Lydia gives Donovan a suspicious look before going into the hall. She can recognize the door instantly from her vision. She takes a deep breath and opens it, the creak unsettling. She nearly gasps when she sees what's on the other side. "What was supposed to be in here?" Malia asks in her ear, suddenly behind her, confused.

Well, not _this_. Inside is a normal bedroom, with a real bed and a dresser against the wall. All the blood is gone, not leaving the smallest bit of a trace. "I- I-" she looks to Scott, who's staring into the room with a confused look, "I swear, there was a bloody mattress in here, and Stiles, he-he was-"

"Stiles isn't here," Donovan says, standing at the end of the hall with his arms crossed, "I have no idea where he is, so get the fuck out of my apartment."

"He's with Theo," Scott says, growling again, fangs growing through his fingers. He takes a step towards Donovan and says, "So where's Theo?" Donovan rolls his eyes, so Scott yells, "Tell me!"

"I don't know who you're even talking about," Donovan says, "Or who has your stupid friend. Bitch didn't even fucking call me back."

Scott loses whatever control he had then, lunging at Donovan. He manages to get him on the ground, slamming his head into the hard wood. Donovan's eyes turn white, hissing with rage. Wendigo. Scott doesn't care, though, as he raises his clawed hand. Lydia runs foward, yelling, "No!" while grabbing Scott's arm. Scott looks back with a growl. Lydia swallows, saying in a quiet voice, "Don't, Scott. He's not worth it." 

Scott takes in a ragged breath. Then his eyes fade back to their usual brown. Donovan finally pushes Scott off of him, standing quickly and yelling, "Get the fuck out of here or I'll call the fucking cops!"

Lydia knows he won't, they have cocaine sitting on the coffee table, but they do have to get out of here. Scott might do something he really regrets if they don't, and they need Donovan alive if they're ever going to find out where Theo is. Malia growls at him once more, saying, "This isn't over."

Kira takes Scott's hand, gently pulling him away. It's obvious he's still upset, shaking, fangs not yet disappearing. Malia follows behind them, leaving Lydia alone with Donovan. She stares at him for a moment. He hurt Stiles. And not just a few bruises. He caused him agony. He _crushed_ something inside of Stiles. "What did you do to him?" Lydia whispers, heart beating too quick, breaths coming out too rapid. 

A small, slimy grin appears on Donovan's face. "I didn't do anything," he says smugly. Lydia swallows, taking a step backwards. Then another. Then another, and another until she's at the door, and she quickly rushes out of the apartment, not able to be around this monster for a second more. 

 

Theo pulls a t-shirt over his chest, watching Stiles in the mirror. The human's sitting on the bed, wearing only a pair of Theo's boxers, and an open flannel shirt with a t-shirt underneath. He's staring at Theo with a frown. Finally, he says in a whine, "Why can't I just come with you?"

Theo sighs. As much as he'd like to take Stiles out with him, he's discussing with Tracy and a few other betas what to do with Stiles' pack that're in the city. They attacked Donovan, and the wendigo is not happy about it. Pretty fucking pissed, actually, judging by how he sounded over the phone. Stiles definitely can't be part of that conversation, nor can he find out that his old pack are even looking for him, so Theo lies, "Not today, alright? Trust me, you'll only be bored," he turns to Stiles, saying, "You'll be fine here." He leans down and kisses Stiles on the cheek.

Stiles sighs, glancing at the bedroom door. Theo takes a deep breath, taking in Stiles' scent. He smirks, saying, "You smell like me." 

Stiles snorts. "Is that werewolf dirty talk?"

Theo's smirk grows wider. He leans down again and kisses Stiles again. Stiles complies, wrapping his arms around Theo's shoulders and pulling him down onto the bed. Theo would appreciate the eagerness, but he's pretty certain Stiles is only doing this to stall him from leaving. So after a moment he pulls away, saying, "Stiles, you'll be fine alone."

Stiles huffs as Theo steps away from the bed. "I don't want you to lock me in here," Stiles says, eyeing the swing lock Theo installed about a week ago. He looks back to Theo, looking uneasy.

Theo sighs. He knew Stiles wouldn't like that lock. He was locked in a bedroom for a week, afterall. But it was a punishment for running away, punishments aren't supposed to be liked. "I'll only be gone an hour," Theo says.

Theo can practically smell the fear coming off of him. "Theo," he says, voice vulnerable. Theo turns to see Stiles looking up from the bed with those big sad eyes of his, the ones he had the first time they had met. And there's genuine fear in his voice when he says shakily, "Please don't lock me in here."

That same instinct to protect pings in Theo's chest. But, oh, he knows he shouldn't give in to Stiles' so easily. Stiles shouldn't think he can get away with things by just flashing those pretty, hurt eyes of his. "You know I have to," he says softly, "You tried to _leave_ me. How do I know you won't do it again?"

Stiles must see the opportunity, because he sits up, saying quickly, "I won't. Okay? Lesson learned, I'm not going to try to leave again." his voice sounds so incredibly desperate that Theo has a strong feeling he's really not planning an escape, this is something psychological. 

Theo takes a deep breath. "... Alright," he says, mostly because he wants Stiles to know he can be gentle with him when he's good, "I won't lock you in here." Stiles sighs in relief. "But-" Theo adds, grabbing Stiles' chin, "-You know what will happen if you try to leave, don't you?"

"Yeah," Stiles mutters. Theo releases his chin, nodding. Maybe he's putting too much trust in Stiles again. But they really make some progress last night, and Theo doesn't want that to go unnoticed. 

"Okay," Theo says, giving Stiles' head one more pat. "I'll be back in an hour. Just try to stay out of trouble, alright? I still have these cameras connected to my phone," he glances at one of the cameras he connected down the hall. "Love you," he says, stepping out.

Stiles opens his mouth, like he's about to say it back, then closes it again. Theo smirks. Progress.

 

"He's a true alpha," Tracy says, voice echoing around the near empty office, "And they have a banshee. That's how they found the city.. how they found out it's _you_ that has him."

Theo sighs from his spot at the front of the table. Of course Stiles just had to have a pack with a banshee. He turns to Donovan, who's sitting at the other end with his arms crossed over his chest like a bratty child. "You're the one they came after," Theo says, "Do you think they have any idea where he is?"

Donovan only shrugs absent mindedly. "She knew about the matress, and she knew your name, but that's pretty much it." He mutters. 

"Drop the attitude," Theo commands, annoyed at Donovan's unwillingness to help. 

"Attitude?" Donovan asks, uncrossing his arms and slamming them against the table. "How am I supposed to act? This is a waste of time and you know it," Donovan snaps, making Theo's eyebrows quirk up, "We're wasting time taking care of a pack just so you can keep your knew little toy."

"Watch it." Tracy warns, glowing yellow eyes at him. Donovan only rolls his eyes.

"Oh, come on," he says, looking around at the other betas at the table, "We're all thinking it." He turns back to Theo, "I don't care if they find him or not, I have better things to be doing then protecting your bitch."

Theo tilts his head. "You should really he careful what you say, Donovan."

"Oh, and why the fuck is that?" He retorts back.

"You're on very thin ice," Theo says calmly, "And I'm really getting sick of this attitude. You should really be trying to get on my good side." He looks over to the door, then says, "Get out."

Donovan looks a bit surprised by that, "Wh-what?" He asks, confused, "N-no, I'm not gonna-"

"Go," Theo repeats, growing more annoyed by the second.

Donovan stares at him indignantly, then scoffs. "I've been loyal to you since you became alpha. Is some fucking sex toy more important to you than me?"

"Yes." Theo says simply. He glows his red eyes, then, growling out "Now get out before I make you."

Donovan clenches his teeth. He looks around at his packmates, but they're all staring down, not daring to say a word. He stands, swallowing. Then he storms out, slamming the door behind him. Theo rolls his eyes. "Anyways," he says casually, eyes fading back to blue as he turns to Tracy, "Tell me more about this pack."

 

Stiles watches the TV half heartedly, glancing at the door every few seconds. Theo's been gone a half an hour, and he let Stiles have the freedom to roam the apartment, which Stiles is very grateful for. The thought of being trapped again was terrifying. But some part of him is whispering to leave, leave before Theo gets home. But the other part of him knows escape is impossible. Theo's always there, always just a few steps ahead. Plus, if he got caught again he's sure Theo would be even angrier then the last time. He's finally gotten used to his new life, he doesn't want to wreck it.

A sound outside catches Stiles' ear. He shuts off the TV, thinking perhaps Theo is home early, but then there's a knock at the door. Stiles' eyes narrow in confusion. No one ever comes here. Not once, in almost a month. And Theo doesn't knock at his own door. So who the hell is here?

The knock turns violent after a moment. Stiles flinches. He thinks momentarily on what he should do, but he comes up empty. He hears shuffling on the other side of the door, then the lock being turned. The door opens and Donovan is standing on the other side. The alarm blares, mixing with the pounding in Stiles' ear. His breath catches, panic consuming his body and making him freeze. His fear filled mind catches the fact that the wendigo seems very angry, which only serves to add fuel to the near panic attack he's about to have. 

Donovan slams the door shut behind him, shaking the knickknacks on the table next to him. " _You_ ," he snarls, teeth grown into long fangs inside his mouth, "You fucking bitch. I'm gonna tear you apart."

Stiles' eyes find the kitchen. If he runs fast enough, he can get a knife and attempt to defend himself. He takes in a sharp breath, then darts towards it. He feels a foot kick his legs and his head hits the kitchen tiles with a loud thump. Before he can even move, a hand is dragging him into the livingroom and he's being flipped onto his back. Donovan growls at him, eyes glowing bright white. "I should've fucking finished you off that night," Stiles tries to pull his arm away, but Donovan grabs his wrist between sharp claws, "You're causing more fucking trouble then you're worth."

Stiles can feel his heart pounding in his chest. Is this a nightmare? "Get off of me!" He screams, struggling violently in his grip. Donovan clamps a hand over his mouth to silence him.

"You think Theo _loves_ you?" Donovan spits out, "That he can protect you? Well where is he now?" He growls again, baring his fangs, "He can't fucking protect you."

One hand moves down his body. Stiles bucks, screaming against the hand in protest, but the hand is unrelenting. Donovan says, "I've been wanting to do this since he took you away," he tugs Stiles' pants down, "I'm hungry, Stiles," Stiles takes in a rapid breath, hand searching the livingroom carpet until he finds the chord to a lamp. He tugs, making the thing fall from the side table, but Donovan doesn't seem to notice, saying, "I'm going to eat you alive."

Stiles smashes the lamp against Donovan's head. The wendigo cries out, releasing Stiles enough to get away. He scurries backwards, trying not to have a panic attack while also pulling his pants up in a desperate attempt to make it stop. All the supressed memories of being there, with Donovan and all the other wolves are clawing their way to the surface and he can't _breath_. He tries to stand, but Donovan grabs him again, pulling him forward by the leg. "Fucking cunt," he snarls. He reaches a hand down and digs it into Stiles' shoulder painfully, making Stiles cry out in pain.

Stiles tries to elbow him, but Donovan sinks his teeth into his forearm, ripping into the flesh. Stiles screams, ripping his flesh away and gripping the bleeding bite with his hand. It's deeper than the bite on his shoulder, so much deeper. As Donovan chews his flesh, blood and muscle tissue drip down his chin. Stiles gasps, vomit nearly coming up. Once he swallows, Stiles grabs a shard of the broken lamp and stabs it into Donovan's shoulder. Donovan lets out a pained noise, backing up a bit. Blood pours onto the carpet below them, the smell nauseating.

All of a sudden a roar fills the room. Donovan looks up, then stands, fear filling his blood covered face. "Theo, wait I-"

Theo is suddenly grabbing Donovan by the throat, growling with red eyes as he pulls him over the couch, away from Stiles. His claws sink deep into Donovan's stomach. Stiles sits up, putting pressure on the bite on his arm and scurrying backwards until he back hits the chair. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and listens to the sound of Theo tear Donovan apart. When he does open his eyes, the apartment is covered in thick red blood and Donovan's entrails. He has to look away, disgusted. He takes a few rapid breaths, then he vomits all over the floor. 

It's hard to breath for a moment, choking on nothing. But when he finally manages to, he looks up at Theo, who's still standing over Donovan's torn apart body, eyes glowing red. He's staring blankly at Stiles, not saying a word, breathing heavily. "Th-Theo?" Stiles asks with a shaky, still panic filled voice. He doesn't like the furious look in Theo's eyes. 

Theo comes foward, still wolfed out. Stiles shuts his eyes in fear, curling slightly into himself. But Theo doesn't attack him, instead wrapping his arms around Stiles' body and burying his face into his neck. Stiles slowly opens his eyes, confused. It takes him a moment to realize that Theo is scent marking him. When he does, he relaxes a bit, letting his eyes fall shut again. He rests his head against Theo, taking in another shaky breath. He can't stop the tears once they start coming, and he can't control the broken noises he sobs out.

 

Stiles whimpers when Theo dabs the bite on his arm with rubbing alcohol. Theo glances up at him, then back down. He's been strangely silent since he finished scent marking him, only giving him curt commands and nothing more. And he's covered in Donovan's blood. It's only adding to Stiles' anxiety. Stiles can't stop shaking. He stopped crying a while ago, but his eyes are still sore, and there's still shame inside of him. 

Theo grabs the roll of bandages from the sink next to them, still holding onto Stiles' wrist. The bandages hurt against his exposed muscle tissue, but Stiles manages to hold back another whimper. Theo carefully wraps the bite, face blank. Stiles hates not being able to read him. He sniffs, rubbing his nose with the back of his other arm. "How did you know he was here?" He asks shakily, wanting to talk to distract himself frim the pain.

"I was close," Theo says, voice emotionless, not looking up, "then I got the a notification on my phone that said someone had broken in."

"Oh." Stiles says simply, wiping his face of moistness. Theo looks up finally, saying in a steady voice, "You can cry again if you want."

Stiles' eyes widen a bit. "N-no," he says in a pathetic little voice. He sniffs again, saying, "It just- _hurt_. The bite. That's why I was crying."

Theo looks at him unbelievingly. "You know," he says, grabbing a tissue from the bathroom's counter and wiping blood off of Stiles' forehead where it slammed against the kitchen floor, "I can smell the panic on you. The fear."

Stiles sniffs again. He feels more tears threatening to spill, but he takes a few deep breaths. He feels weak and pathetic for getting this upset. He's been hurt before. Been beaten, clawed. Hell, a fucking demon possessed his body. But for some reason _this_ , this stupid wendigo is the thing he breaks down because of. It's stupid. But he can't help it. "He was gonna rape me." Stiles whispers, looking at Theo with teary eyes. 

Theo pulls the tissue away. "It's okay to get upset about it," he assures him. But Stiles doesn't want to. He wants to forget about it and move on, that's what he always does. But the thought of foreign hands all over him, being completely helpless, alone, bleeding... he sniffs again, a couple of tears managing to fall without his permission. Theo wipes them away with his thumb.

"I just want it to be over." He admits, voice quaking, "I want to forget about it. I can't- I can't think about it."

A small sob escapes his lips. Theo rubs his back soothingly, whispering, "Stiles it's gonna be okay. He's gone, he can't hurt you again," he wipes another tear from his face, "I'm not going to let anybody hurt you again."

Stiles thinks back to Donovan's body. Theo really tore him apart. Stiles knows he should feel bad about it, or guilty, or something, but he doesn't. He's glad Donovan's dead. Theo did it to protect him. Because maybe Theo does love him as much as he says. "Thank you." He says quitely. Theo smiles slightly, running a hand through Stiles' hair. Stiles closes his eye, letting himself be comforted. He believes Theo. He's the only one who can protect him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you enjoyed this chapter! Been planning this from the beginning, glad I finally got to write it!
> 
> Let me know if you're still enjoying the story as well! Thank you so much for reading <3


	9. Force

Theo drops his blood soaked towel into the sink, sighing. The last of the blood is finally gone, just as the rays of early morning sun creep in through the apartment windows. Tracy came in a few hours ago and took care of Donovan's body.. what was left of it, anyways. Which wasn't much, only his head and a few disconnected limbs. Theo makes sure his hands are clean before he grabs a water bottle and a small cup full of a few pills. 

As he walks to the bedroom, he hears breath that sounds suspiciously not asleep. His theory is confirmed when he walks in and sees Stiles sitting upright, staring out the window with his knees pulled to his chest. Theo sighs again. "I told you to get some sleep," he comments, handing him the water bottle and pills. Stiles downs them immediately, not bothering to ask what they're for. They're just for pain and anxiety, which Stiles needs since he was on the verge of multiple panic attacks earlier in the night. 

"I couldn't fall asleep," he mutters, still looking at the window instead of Theo. Theo takes a seat next to him. The medication will help. Though, Theo can't really blame him for being scared. The man that trapped and raped him for almost a week showed up in his safe place and attempted to rape him again. He also left a pretty nasty bite on his arm. 

"How're you feeling?" Theo asks. He glances down at the bandaged arm.

"I'm fine." He says back, voice quivering like he might cry at any moment. He cried a lot right after Theo killed Donovan, then some more later when Theo was patching him up. He's not fine. But that seems to be Stiles' default answer to everything, even when it couldn't be further from the truth.

"Hey," Theo says, gently grabbing Stiles' chin and forcing him to look over. Stiles does reluctantly, eyes still rimmed red, like he was doing some more crying while Theo was cleaning up. Theo tilts his head. "How are you really feeling?"

Stiles sighs. "Better," he says, fingers playing with a loose thread on his sweatpants. He looks down, adding, "But... terrified. I don't even know of what. It's _stupid_. He's dead, but.. I don't know."

Theo hums. That's more like the Stiles he knows. He wraps his arm around Stiles' shoulder and Stiles curls into his side. "I know it's bad now," Theo says carefully, "But this is the worst it can get. I'm going to protect you. Donovan's gone, he can't hurt you again."

"You killed him." Stiles murmurs into his chest. Theo clenches his teeth. He doesn't know what came over him, but as soon as he saw Donovan on top of Stiles he lost his mind. He's had boyfriends before, and he's never cared if his betas touched them or not. But Stiles... he's different. No one can touch him. When he first found Stiles he was attracted to him, to his big sad eyes. But god, he's really fallen for the human, hasn't he? Completely head over fucking heels.

"Do you really wish I hadn't?" He asks a bit angrily, tensing as he waits for a response, hand on Stiles' shoulder tightening just a bit. 

Stiles doesn't say anything for a moment, making Theo irrationally impatient. Then, he finally says, "No, no, that's not what I-," he pauses, then adds, "I'm glad he's dead."

Theo smirks to himself. Then Stiles continues, tapping his long fingers against Theo's chest, "Did you do it to protect me?" He swallows, adding cautiously, "Or because you were jealous?"

Theo's a bit thrown by the question. He frowns, sitting up so he can look Stiles in the eye. "What?" 

Stiles stares at him. "Were you just jealous that someone else was touching me?" He repeats. He looks afraid of the answer. Like he truly believes Theo doesn't actually care about him, only killed Donovan because of jealousy.

Theo scoffs. "What makes you think that?" He asks, voice sharper than he meant it. He can't help it. He can't believe Stiles really thinks that. 

Stiles shoots him an unimpressed look. "I'm not stupid," he says, "You make me wear your clothes, when you could've got me my own. We sleep in the same bed. You got me this," he holds up his hand that still displays the ring he gave him, "For no other reason than to show people I'm taken. Fuck, you made me sleep covered in _your_ cum, like, a few days ago." He huffs, "That's not you being the least bit possessive of me?"

Theo clenches his jaw shut. He was not jealous of fucking _Donovan_. And yes, he likes Stiles to smell like him. That's not fear of losing him, it's to show the betas in his pack that he's _his_. Theo's mind instantly thinks of Stiles' old pack, that're still in the city, looking for him. Maybe he is jealous of them. He's heard Stiles talk about them, he's loyal to them and loves them. Theo wants that. Bad. And knowing that it wouldn't take much for Stiles to be convinced to leave him is infuriating. 

"Would you leave me?" Theo asks, looking at Stiles intensely. Stiles' eyes widen. Theo crawls forward, "If you could, would you leave right now?"

Stiles stares widely at him for a moment, thinking. He swallows again, saying in a small voice, "No, I want..." he stops, like it's hard to say, " _..you_." 

Theo smirks again, calming down slowly. There was no differnce in his heart beat; no lie in his words. So perfect. This is why Theo's fallen so hard. Stiles is perfect for him. He plants a kiss on top of Stiles' head, saying, "Forget about sleep. Let's watch a movie or something, get your mind off things. I'll order breakfast."

Stiles nods, sitting up, looking a little conflicted. He's still hurting and confused, but he'll get over it. Theo knows how he really feels now. Theo watches him walk to the livingroom and is about to follow when he gets a text from Josh. _Still at the hotel, but the banshee is awake_. Theo huffs. But he's not too worried at the moment. Two of his betas are guarding the front of the building, making sure Stiles' pack can't get to him. Still, though, annoying. One more fucking obstacle. But as soon as Stiles' old pack is taken care of, Stiles can truly be all his. 

 

Lydia paces the hotel room, hands twisting together. Malia is still asleep on her bed, Kira and Scott probably alseep in their room. It's only 5am, but Lydia's been asleep since 2. She feels... weird. They just spoke to Donovan yesterday, and they're going back again today, but somethings off. Lydia can't feel Donovan's presence anymore. She'd almost think he was dead if that made any sense.

And Stiles... something's definitely wrong. He's scared, or in pain, or _something_. Lydia can't exactly explain it, but she woke up in a complete panic, clutching her arm. She doesn't know exactly what's wrong, but anything is enough to cause concern. But one thing Lydia is sure about is Theo did something to Stiles. 

"Crap," Lydia mutters, grabbing her coat. She needs to get this out of her head, needs to shake off her worry. She'll be no good to Stiles if they find him today in this state. 

"Where're 'ou going?" Malia mutters sleepily, lifting her head full of messy bed hair, only half awake. 

"For a walk," Lydia says, pulling on a pair of plain flats that were sticking out of her bag. She leaves a moment later, into the empty hotel hall. 

 

Lydia's not sure where she was going, she's never been to this city, but she stops when she reaches a tall building on what she believes is the expensive part of town. She doesn't know why she does it, or why her legs for some reason can't move forward. She looks at the building for a moment and then feels a faint sickness creep into her gut.

"Excuse me," someone says behind her, pushing past. She's about to apologize when she sees the guy who said it. He's holding a brown paper bag, dressed in a blue t-shirt with a black hoodie over it, ripped jeans and slightly styled blonde hair. Lydia only sees his face for a second, but she can tell right away that he's Theo from the drawing. He walks into the building casually, not giving Lydia a second glance. Lydia follows after him quickly, nearly running to catch up to him.

Lydia rushes into the building, getting a strange look from the doorman. She searches the lobby and find Theo stepping into the elevator, glancing down at his phone. But just as she goes to follow him, the doorman asks, "Can I help you?" 

"What, N-no," she says, stopping for only a moment. But when she looks back to the elevator, she sees the doors closing. She takes a deep breath, and pulls out her phone, calling Scott as she walks out of the building. 

"Lydia, what're you-" comes Scott's groggy voice when the ringing ends. 

"I found him," Lydia says, cutting him off, "He's- I found Theo, and I found what apartment building he's in-"

"Are you serious?!" Scott says in a hopeful voice. "Wh-where? Where is he?"

"I'm getting the address now," Lydia says, pulling the phone away from her ear to take a picture of the address and street name with her shaky hands. She pulls the phone back up to her ear and says, "I'm about to come back now, we can't get him when Theo's here," she recalls Scott telling them all how dangerous the alpha is, "But I found him Scott." She looks back up at the building and a small smile flashes across her face.

"Okay, okay, just please get here quick!" Scott says, sounding as hopeful as Lydia feels. Lydia hangs up, stuffing her phone into the pocket of her jacket. She turns to walk back to the hotel when she notices a slick black car parked across the street. The guy in the front seat is staring at her. Lydia narrows her eyes. He looks vaguely familiar.

Lydia's entire body goes cold when she realizes it's the guy who was sitting in Deaton's office two nights ago. He looks away as soon as she notices, but the damage has already been done. And just as he picks up his phone, Lydia starts running down the street, back to the hotel.

 

"Breakfast," Theo says as he enters the apartment, holding up a greasy brown bag. Stiles looks over from where he sits wrapped in a fuzzy blanket on the couch. Theo types in the security code, which Stiles doesn't even attempt to see, amd walks over, saying with a chuckle, "Though, I'm not sure curly fries at six am is technically breakfast." He drops the bag onto the coffee table

"Hey," Stiles says, grabbing a tub of greasy fries as Theo plops down next to him, "It's never too early for curly fries."

Theo huffs out a laugh, stealing a fry. He steals some of the blanket and grabs his own tub of salad from the bag. He leans in closer to Stiles, so their arms are touching. Stiles swallows, stuffing a handful of fries into his mouth. "I love you, you know that?" Theo says, looking over.

Stiles swallows. "I know," he says, and really believes it. After last night... Theo has to love him, right? It's the only thing Stiles is really sure of these days, and he's not unhappy about it. He's actually kind of happy. It might be the array of pills Theo gave him this morning or maybe he's just feeling really vulnerable, but he feels kind of good, even after such a terrible night. "I- uh..." he coughs, looking pointedly at the TV, "Love you too."

Theo's face lights up. He leans over and kisses him. Stiles rests into it. The feeling is familiar; safe. Theo only pulls away a moment later, when his phone chimes in his pocket. He huffs, taking it and reading a text. He sighs. "I have to go," he mutters. He drops his salad container onto the coffee table, and says, "I'm sorry, this is important," he looks up, saying, "I promise once I get back we'll continue this."

Stiles feels heat fill his cheek. Theo smirks, giving him one last deep kiss. "Will you be okay here?"

Stiles nods. Theo pats his head, sighing one more time before walking over to the door and slipping into a pair of shoes. "I'll be back in a few hours. You should get some rest, okay? You'll need it." He winks, which makes Stiles' face turn redder. He leaves then, closing the door behind him.

 _Fuck_.

Did he just tell Theo he loved him? More importantly, did he actually mean it? He feels like he does. He laughs slightly to himself, leaning into the couch. He loves Theo. He's actually fallen in love with Theo.

 

"You just saw him?" Scott asks, pulling on a jacket as he follows Lydia down the stairs, Kira and Malia following after. "Theo? What did he do, did you talk to him?"

"No," Lydia says quickly as they reach the lobby, hands still shaking, "I just saw him pass me. But he lives there," She opens the door and walks onto the sidewalk, the pack right behind her, "So that's where Stiles must be. And as I was walking out I think I saw one of Theo's betas watching me," she looks around and spots the same car as before, with the same guy watching them. She points, saying, "Him."

Malia growls, taking off. "Malia!" Kira calls, but the werecoyote doesn't stop. Scott chases after her, across the street. Lydia follows, just as the guy leaves his car, running into the alley across the street. When Lydia reaches them, Malia has the guy pinned to the brick wall, and Scott is standing behind them.

"Who the hell are you?" Malia growls out between fangs, eyes glowing a piercing blue. 

The guy growls back, eyes yellow. But there's fear behind the angry facade, and Lydia can't figure out why. "I'm not telling you anything!"

"We know you work for Theo," Lydia says sharply, stepping foward. The beta growls at her, but she's not afraid. "Where is Stiles?"

The guy clenches his jaw shut, refusing to talk. "Where. Is. Stiles?" Scott growls, eyes turning red. Thd guy cowers a bit, but then bares his fangs.

"You'll never get him back," The guy growls, "You have no fucking idea what you're up against. Theo always gets what he wants, and he wants all of you dea-" Malia is knocking his head against the wall before he can finish. He falls to the floor, unconcious. Malia looks back at Scott. 

"Let's find Stiles," he says, eyes still glowing red as he turns, walking out of the alley. Lydia swallows, following after him.

 

When they pull up across from the apartment building, Lydia sees two guys standing in front of the building, each on one side of the front door. She looks to Malia in the back seat of the car as she says, "He's a coyote, and the other is a wolf. I can smell it."

Lydia turns to Scott in the passangers seat. "Is he here?" She asks, voice full of baited hope.

Scott inhales deeply, taking in the smells around him. "I can sort of make out his scent," Scott says, voice filled with an equal amount of hope and worry, "But it's different... It's like it's mixed with another scent or something."

"But he's here." Lydia says, touching Scott's arm to calm him. He swallows nervously, still looking concerned. "That's all that matters right now."

"So what're we doing here?" Malia asks, leaning foward into the two front seats. "Why aren't we going in there and getting Stiles?"

"We can't just go in," Lydia says, though that's all she wants to do. She rubs her arm again, the phantom pain from earlier still there. "There are two guys in front of the building, probably ready to call for help the moment we attempt to go in. Not to mention Theo is still in there. We have to wait until we know he's gone."

Scott sighs. "You're right." He inhales again, but this time his face scrunches up. Lydia shoots him a confused look. "I smell... something bad," he looks over to the building, " _Blood_."

Lydia winces, body flaring with sudden pain. They have to get Stiles out. 

 

The apartment building isn't hard to get into, not when Malia and Kira are holding off the betas in the front and they enter through the parking garage. They saw Theo's car drive away a little while ago, which means they have to go quick. They have no idea how long he'll be away. Lydia follows Scott through a door and they reach a small hallway with an elevator.

"What floor?" Lydia asks as they step in. Scott sniffs the air.

"The top," Scott says. Lydia pushes the button and the doors close. She takes a deep breath. They're actually about to find Stiles. It seemed like it wasn't possible, but it's really happening. As the elevator slowly ascends to the top floor, the anticipation grows more and more inside of her.

When the doors finally open, Lydia asks, "Where is he?", her voice shakes uncontrollably. Scott sniffs again. He starts walking towards a door without saying anything, determined. He tries the door, but breaks the doorknob right off when it's locked. As soon as it opens, a quiet beeping noise starts playing through the apartment. Scott searches the wall and finds a small security system. He punches it, ceasing the beeping and not letting any sort of alarm go off.

Lydia looks around the big apartment. It's exactly as it was in the visions, even down to the furniture. There's a blanket on the couch, crumpled up like it was used recently. There's also an empty tub of food on the coffee table and a few DVD cases strewn around it. Scott looks around quickly, then walks past the livingroom, into a small hallway. Lydia follows. The hall has two closed doors and one at the end that's ajar. 

They both rush in. It's a bedroom. The giant bed is unmade and looks recently used. And sitting on the window sill is Stiles, looking over the city outside. Lydia takes a deep breath. It's him. It's really him. Alive. She smiles, heart beating quickly. 

"Theo, I-" Stiles begins to say, turning. His eyes widen when he sees it's not Theo. His face is pale, and he has dark circles under his eyes. He's thin, too. The clothes he's wearing are baggy, and he has a bruise on his forehead. Other than all that, though, he looks healthy. And the fact that he's not tied up somewhere or in extreme pain is reassuring. 

Stiles looks absolutely shocked as he stands, looking over both of them with wide eyes. But not just shocked. He looks almost scared. Lydia's smile fades slightly, confusion taking over. Why isn't he happy to see them? "Sc-scott..?" He says in a small, unbelieving voice, looking him over again. 

"Stiles," Scott says happily, big smile crossing his face. He walks to Stiles quickly. Stiles slightly flinches but Scott pulls him into a giant hug, squeezing him tight. Stiles doesn't hug him back, arms hanging uselessly at his sides. He looks shocked and confused. Scott pulls away after a moment, still smiling.

"H-how, how did you..." Stiles asks, pulling away from Scott, backing up slowly. He swallows nervously. He rubs his arm, wincing a bit. 

"Lydia found you," Scott says, turning to look at her, then back to Stiles, "Oh my god, I'm so glad you're okay," he says, but Lydia has a very strong feeling that he's not okay, not by the way he's slowly backing away from Scott like he's afraid he's going to hurt him. "Come on," he says, taking a step foward, "We need to get you out of here before he gets back."

"No," Stiles says, taking another step backwards. Scott's smile falls and his eyebrows furrow. "No, I can't. Theo's.. I- I can't leave."

Scott glances back at Lydia, confused. "Wh-what?" Scott asks. "No, Stiles, we have to get you out of here, I promise he won't find you, come on-"

"No." Stiles repeats, more firmly this time. "I don't want to leave."

Scott's mouth opens in a silent gasp. "Wh- Stiles..?" He says, completely confused and worried. "You.. you.. why would you want to stay here?"

Stiles is staring at Scott like he doesn't even know him, like they haven't been friends for all their lives. Lydia turns to Scott, saying worriedly, "We have to go, Malia and Kira can't hold them up forever. And we don't know when he'll be back."

Scott turns back to Stiles. "Stiles," he says, "please. You have to come with us."

Stiles shakes his head. Oh, he really doesn't want to go. Lydia can't tell if it's out of fear or something else. She saves that thought for later, focusing on the issue at hand; getting Stiles to go with them. Scott grabs his arm lightly, trying to pull him along, but Stiles winces in pain, crying out and pulling his arm violently away. Scott's eyes go wide and he backs off. Stiles clutches his arm to his chest, looking at Scott like he just hit him. "I'm sorry," Scott says shakily, looking like a wounded puppy.

"Stiles," Lydia says, walking up, "I know you're scared," he watches her carefully, though he doesn't look as afraid as he did with Scott, "But we're here to bring you home. Don't you want that?"

Stiles seems to think for a moment. "I.." he says, unsure. He looks down. "Y-yes?" He answers.

"Okay." Lydia says. She slowly steps up to him, and says, "Then we need to leave right now."

Stiles slowly nods. Lydia turns to Scott. Scott takes a deep breath, trying to look less hurt then he probably is. "Let's go." He says, turning to leave. Stiles follows, walking slowly like he doesn't want to. Lydia looks around the bedroom, where Stiles had aparently been living. She glances at the one bed, wondering if Theo made them sleep together. Or if he forced Stiles to do _other_ things. She shakes that thought from her mind, following them out of the room.

 

Theo sighs, typing his password into is laptop. He's in his car, waiting impatiently for Tracy and Corey to return from the bathroom. They're just outside the city, because a pack of alpha's just had to pick now to discuss their alliance. He left two beta's to guard the building and Josh is watching the pack, so Theo supposes everything will be fine. Though, he'd still like to see what Stiles' is up to, and since he doesn't trust him with phones he'll do the next best thing. 

He clicks on the securty camera app he installed when he bought the devices. He scans through the footage and finds an hour ago. In black and white footage he sees Stiles is no longer in the livingroom, probably in the bedroom. He sighs, about to close the computer when he sees the front door open. He can feel his fangs grow in his mouth when he sees a guy and a girl step in, who Theo can recognize as Stiles' former alpha and packmate. He skips ahead in the footage, just in time to see the alpha dragging Stiles by the wrist out of the apartment, a bit forcefully. 

Theo growls, pushing his laptop aside violently. He's going to kill them. He's going to kill _all of them_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment!!! Let me know what you thought of this chapter, and what you want to happen next!!!


	10. Freedom

Stiles' heart is beating faster then what he thinks is healthy. The last few hours feel like some sort of dream (or nightmare, he can't decide). He can hardly recall the last few events. Scott and Lydia showed up out of nowhere, then he was in the car, and now he's back in Beacon Hills, sitting in his dad's office with a blanket draped over his shoulders and a mug of hot coffee in his shaky hands. He knows this is real, but a part of him truly believes that any moment he'll wake up in Theo's arms. 

"Stiles," his dad says from where he's leaning against his desk across from Stiles. As soon as Stiles walked in the building he was engulfed by the tightest hug he's ever recieved. Aparently his dad really missed him, but Stiles is having a strangely hard time believing that. "Can you tell me what happened to you?" his voice is gentle, like Stiles is a frightened animal who'll run away if he makes one wrong move.

Stiles shakes his head. He doesn't know how he'd possibly even start talking about this. Everything that happened. Scott takes a deep breath from where he's standing against the wall with Lydia. Scott was very adamant on bringing him back, even when Stiles flat out refused. He doesn't even know why he was so resistant. A few weeks ago he would've jumped at any oppurtunity to leave, but now it's different for some reason. It's stupid. Now that Stiles has escaped all he can think about is going back.

His dad sighs slightly. He's frustrated, Stiles can tell, but he seems to be trying to hide it. Stiles doesn't mean to frustrate him, he doesn't. But trying to arrest Theo is not only pointless, but dangerous. "I want to help you," his dad says, leaning in a little closer, "But I can't put this monster away if I don't know what happened," his voice is laced with a bit of anger. Stiles can tell it's not directed at him.

"He's not a monster." Stiles defends immediately. He doesn't know why he says it. Theo's not a saint, not at all. He's a murderer. But he loves Stiles, and he saved his life.

"He kept you prisoner for weeks," Scott chimes in, looking almost hurt by Stiles' words. Stiles glances over then looks back to his coffee. It never really felt like he was kept prisoner. It felt like he was Theo's boyfriend and they had a really weird, sort of unhealthy relationship. Scott continues in that same hurt voice, "And he hurt you. Lydia said you were in pain-"

"Theo never did anything to me," Stiles argues with sudden anger. The only pain he felt was from Donovan, Theo was the one protecting him. He wouldn't have even needed Theo if Scott had found him while he was in that tiny room, _dying_. 

Scott opens his mouth to speak, but his dad cuts him off by gently putting up his hand. Scott closes his mouth and swallows, frowning. His dad turns back to him and says, "It's okay, you don't have to tell us everything right now. But you know you're going to have to eventually, right?"

Stiles doesn't say anything to that. He has a feeling he's never going to have a chance to. Theo's going to find him. And he's going to try to kill Scott, Lydia, his father and anybody else keeping him away, he's threatened to before. And Theo _is_ going to find him, he's sure of it. He always has a way to find him, Stiles wouldn't be surprised if Theo already knew he was gone, despite it only being a few hours since he left. "Theo's gonna find me," Stiles says, looking to his dad, then to Scott and Lydia. "And he's gonna try to get me back." 

"We'll protect you," Scott says, sounding less hurt and more sure, "We're not going to let him hurt you again."

Stiles suppresses an eye roll. He just doesn't get it. There's no one to protect him from anymore, Donovan's already dead. Mutilated, actually. But it sucks, because Stiles really did try to stay, really did try to refuse to leave (and he keeps telling himself it was to protect the pack and not because he really did want to stay with Theo). But they forced him to leave and now Theo's going to come here, and he's going to be _pissed_. 

Stiles is about speak when his arm flares up in unexpected pain. The bite on his arm must rub against his leg or something, because it suddenly hurts like hell. He cries out, dropping his coffee onto the floor. Scott and his dad both step forward and his dad grabs his wrist gently. "What's wrong?" He asks, concerned, "What's wrong with your arm?"

"Nothing," Stiles blurts out, tugging his arm away. He puts a gentle hand on the still painful bite mark. "I'm fine, it's nothing."

"No, check below his wrist," Lydia says in a concerned voice, stepping forward. She hasn't said much since they first came to the apartment, but the whole ride over she looked like she was going to be sick.

Stiles shoots her an unhappy look, but she looks far too concerned to notice. His dad looks up carefully, hands ghosting over his arm, right above the bite, as if asking for permission. Stiles swallows, reluctantly pulling up the sleeves of his sweatshirt to reveal the now bloodied bandage that Theo wrapped his arm in last night. His dad very carefully unpeals the fabric, slowly revealing the bite mark. Scott gasps when he sees it.

Stiles looks away. It's bad. And deep. The memories of last night, of Donovan ripping his flesh all come tumbling back. And suddenly he really misses Theo. "Oh my god," Scott says, voice broken, "He did this to you?!" He's suddenly angry and his eyes glow red, "Theo did this to you?!"

" _No_ ," Stiles says, "Theo didn't- it was Donovan." _you know, the one you made me go on a date with_ , Stiles thinks, but doesn't say. 

"I'll put that monster in a prison cell for the rest of his life," His dad says, voice a combination of rage, sadness, and pain. "I'll-"

"No, dad," Stiles says, pulling his arm away and attempting to wrap the bite back up but failing miserably, "You don't- Donovan's gone."

"What does that mean?" Scott says, eyes still bright red. 

"He's dead," Stiles can still almost smell his disembodied guts smeared all over the walls. He looks back to the ground, adding, "Theo killed him."

No one says anything for a moment. Scott looks surprised, and his eyes slowly fade back to their usual dark brown. His dad is the one who finally clears his throat, then says, "We need to take you to the hospital."

"No," Stiles insists. They can't know about any of the other marks he has, any of the scars. No one can know about what happened to him, because then he'll have to talk about it, and he just _can't_ do that. "It's fine, it's just a bite, it doesn't even hurt that much anymore."

"Stiles," Lydia says, taking a step foward to get a better look at the wound, voice returning to her normal one. She looks Stiles in the eyes intently and says, "It's going to get infected, you're going to the hospital."

Stiles has a feeling she isn't taking no for an answer. He swallows and looks down. "..fine." he mutters unhappily. 

 

The hospital is quiet tonight, has hardly anybody in it but a few people sitting in the emergency room. Lydia's leg is shaking up and down anxiously on the bench she's sitting on next to Scott, Kira, and Malia outside of Stiles' room. The sheriff is pacing the hall, waiting impatiently for Melissa to come out and say everything's going to he okay. And everything will, it was just stitches and a few routine tests, but that's really not the part Lydia is worried about. Stiles didn't want to leave, and it wasn't just out of fear of Theo. He was defending Theo in the sheriff's office. That's a problem, and not one that can be fixed with a few stitches on his arm. They have no idea what happened to him in the past five weeks, but it really hurt Stiles psychologically. 

The hospital door opens and Melissa walks out. The sheriff rushes over from a few feet down the hall and they all stand. "Is he alright?" The sheriff asks urgently. He was relieved when they brought Stiles back, but he was also angry. Lydia can tell he would like nothing more than to go out and kill Theo himself, but he knows Stiles needs him right now. Stiles needs everyone.

"The stitches went on fine, he's resting now," she says reassuringly, though there's something else in her voice, like she's holding back sadness, "We did some tests, and.." she looks from the sheriff to the rest of them, then clears her throat a bit, "Kids, you shouldn't be hearing this."

Kira swallows and takes Malia's arm gently, leading her away. Lydia doesn't move, saying firmly, "I need to know."

"So do I." Scott says, still sounding distressed. He looks to his mom with sad eyes, saying, "Mom, _please_."

Melissa clenches her teeth. The sheriff nods slightly, looking more worried by the second. Melissa sighs, finally continuing quietly, "Despite a few scars and another bite on his shoulder that seems to have already been treated, he's fine physically." Lydia's hand ghosts over her shoulder, still feeling phantom pain, "But mentally..." Melissa looks like it's difficult to say, "We did some tests and Stiles shows signs that he was... sexually abused."

It's like the whole hospital goes silent. Scott's the first one to break it, muttering a broken, "Oh my god," before looking like he might be sick, "I need.. a minute," he murmurs, turning and walking down the hall. Lydia's chest contracts a little, so she sits on the bench behind her while the sheriff says with pain and anger in his voice, "He raped Stiles? He raped _my_ son?" He goes quickly onto yelling, "I'll kill that son of bitch, I'll-"

Melissa attempts to calm him down, but Lydia hardly pays attention. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she kind of suspected this. She just hoped she was wrong. Stiles was raped. And Lydia doesn't know who did it, maybe Donovan, maybe Theo, it doesn't really matter. Stiles was raped, and it took five weeks to find him. She puts her head in her hand. The sheriff has stopped yelling, calmed only when Melissa says, "Noah, Stiles needs you right now. And we need to be calm around him, okay, we don't know what he's been through. Right now what he needs is your love, and support."

The sheriff takes in a shaky breath. "He's my _son_ ," he says, more broken then Lydia has ever seen him. He sniffs, and Melissa pulls him into a tigt hug. Lydia stands and rushes away, needing a moment alone. 

She doesn't quite find that. She finds Scott instead, sitting alone on a bench, face in his hands. She takes a seat next to him and puts a comforting hand on his back. Scott looks up with red, teary eyes. "He raped him." He says, voice shaky. "Theo, or Donovan.. or _both_ of them..."

Lydia looks away. "It's going to be okay. He'll be okay."

Scott shakes his head. "How?" He looks to her, "He... he didn't even want to come back- how could he have wanted to stay with someone who did that to him, I don't understand.." 

"It's stockholm syndrome," Lydia says, looking down. Scott looks confused until she explains, "It's when someone bonds with the person who's keeping them captive. It's a psychological response, a coping mechanism.." she shakes her head, "It's what you do when you're scared."

"He smells like someone else." Scott's jaw clenches tightly shut. "He looked at me like he thought I was going to hurt him." He says, "Like.. like he was afraid of us."

Lydia let's out a breath. "He didn't mean it, Scott. He's... been through a lot." It seems like an understatement. He's been through something terrible, and it's really hurt him mentally. He's traumatized. You don't just come back from that. "He'll be okay.." Lydia repeats quietly, staring at the hopsital wall.

 

Stiles stares up at the ceiling, laying uncomfortably on the hospital bed. He plays with the new bandge on his arm, feeling the stitches through the fabric. They didn't hurt so much going on. Nothing he can't handle, not after everything. He sighs, moving so he's laying on his side instead. He misses Theo. And he knows he shouldn't, but he does. He really did fall in love with the guy, and Theo loved him back. But Stiles knows he's going to come for him. He's just not sure what the fuck he's going to do when he does.

The door opens slowly and Lydia steps in. "Hi," she says in a soft voice, standing by the door, not fully stepping in yet, "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Yeah," Stiles says, sitting up a bit. Lydia walks up to the hospital bed and takes a seat on the edge of it. 

"So Melissa wants to keep you overnight?" Lydia asks, looking over to where he's sitting on the bed.

"Yeah," Stiles says with an annoyed huff. "I'm not even that hurt. I just want to go home."

"Home as in your and Scott's apartment or Theo's apartment?" Lydia asks looking down. 

Stiles remains still for a moment, not saying anything. He doesn't even know what he means. Part of him wants to go back to he and Scott's apartment, for things to just go back to the way they were. But the other part knows that things will never be the same. Being with Theo, it was like an entirely different life. And he got used to it, got used to being with Theo. And he wants to go back, he wants to be with Theo, despite knowing how wrong it is for him to feel that way.

"I don't know." He admits, looking away purposefully. He's embarrassed for wanting what he wants, but he and Lydia have always been honest with eachother. He's always told her things he felt too weird about telling Scott.

Lydia takes a deep breath. "Melissa told us.." she doesn't say it, but Stiles can tell what she's getting at. 

"I'm fine." He says sharply, clenching his jaw shut tight. No, no, he's not ready to talk about _this_ , not with anybody.

"I felt some of what you felt," Lydia says, not looking up at him, voice a little unsteady, "Just.. bits and pieces. The room, and-and your shoulder. But.. Stiles, you're not fine." Stiles chews the inside of his cheek, staring at the tiled floor below them. Lydia continues, "He hurt you."

"He didn't hurt me." Stiles snaps, looking back up. Lydia looks surprised at his sudden anger. "Theo never hurt me, it was all Donovan. Theo's the one who.."

"The one who what?" Lydia asks in confusion. 

Stiles sighs. "He _saved_ me." He says. "He never did.. _that_ to me. And he let me stay in his house, and _loved_ me. A-and, I think I love him."

Lydia stares at him for a moment. Then she looks down. "You don't. He was keeping you captive, and he _made_ you be with him."

"Well if he hadn't then I would be dead!" Stiles says angrily. Lydia looks up, hurt. But Stiles doesn't care. He continues, "When I was in that room, I kept staring at the door and thinking that any minute Scott or you or _anyone_ would come in and the fucking nightmare would be over. But no one did. Theo- Theo _did_."

He didn't realize how much he was bottling up until it all came rushing back. He wipes his face and is confused when his hand comes back wet. Lydia is staring at him with wide eyes. Stiles looks down, cheeks turning red from shame. 

"I-I'm sorry." Lydia says finally. 

Stiles shakes his head. "Was anyone even looking for me?... Did anyone even notice I was gone?" It hurts him how much he's grown to believe that. They probably didn't notice he was gone until Scott came back from vacation, and only then because they live together.

"Stiles," Lydia says, sounding sad. Stiles looks up. "Of course we were looking for you." Stiles stares at her, as she says, "Maybe it took us too long to, but we care about you. Please don't think that we didn't want you. We-we love you."

Stiles wipes his eyes again. Lydia leans over and pulls him into a tight hug. Stiles doesn't move for a moment. Then he rests his head against her shoulder and wraps his arms around her. They stay like that for a long time, but when Lydia finally pulls away there are tears in her eyes. Stiles wipes away his tears. "I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner." Lydia says, voice shaky.

Stiles shakes his head. "It's okay. It-it's okay." He says. They were looking. They were looking for him. He takes a deep breath, thinking. He wonders if Theo knew they were. Scott had mentioned something earlier about one of Theo's betas following them around. Did he really know everything? 

"And it's okay that you love him." She says sympathetically, wiping the last of her tears away. "It's normal..." she looks down, "after all you've been through" 

"I'm not crazy, okay?" Stiles says defensively. But he kind of feels like he is. Why does he love Theo? He should hate him. He threatened to kill the pack, he didn't let him leave, despite Stiles kind of wanting to stay. It's fucking crazy to want two different things at once.

"You're not." Lydia assures him. She offers him a small smile and pushes hair back from his forehead. Stiles smiles back slightly. But he doesn't feel good, he feels confused. And he's pretty sure that anxiety medication Theo gave him earlier today is wearing off, because he feels more stressed than ever. He sighs and rests his head against his pillow.

 

Stiles stares at a spot on the white, hospital wall, laying in the darkness. He can't sleep alone anymore, he hasn't had to since all of the shit with Donovan happened. He sighs, twisting onto his side. He glances at the digital clock on the small table next to the bed. 2am. He sighs again. 

A noise outside rouses him from an almost-sleep. He sits up, listening carefully. Another noise sounds outside the room, this time more like something crashing. He pushes the thin blanket off of him, standing.

The door creeps open slowly, letting a bright light into the otherwise dark room. When it's completely open, there's a familiar silhouette standing on the other side. "Theo." Stiles says quietly. Theo steps in the room, eyes fixed intensely on Stiles. Stiles keeps his eyes on him, noting everything off with his appearence. Mostly staring at the blood staining his shirt. Sirens are fucking blaring in Stiles' head as he wonders who Theo hurt or if he killed any of his friends. 

"Stiles," Theo says, shutting the door. A smug smirk crosses his face.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I know, cliffhanger!!!! Sorry!
> 
> Leave me a comment if you enjoyed!! Next chapter will more than likey be the last (unless I include an epilogue, which I'm not sure about), so let me know how you want this to end!!! I need some inspiration and I'd love to hear everyone's opinion on how this story should end! <3


	11. Melancholy

Neither of them moved for a moment. They just stood in an almost tense silence, looking at each other. Theo was eyeing Stiles like it's been a long time since he saw him last. Which is strange, considering it's been less than 24 hours since the last time they talked. It's hard to tell what Theo is thinking. His smirk has fallen, and his face is blank. He looks sort of... off. There's just something not right about him. It's almost like he's not in completel control of himself. He's lost control before; Donovan, the first time Stiles tried to leave. Even sometimes in conversation Stiles would see his calm facade slip. It's not hard to believe he'd lose control again, especially since Stiles left him. 

"Who's blood is that?" Stiles asks, breaking the intense silence. He knows Scott and Lydia went home to take a shower and change their clothes about an hour ago, and his dad went back to the station to start a search, but that still leaves Melissa here. 

Theo doesn't break eye contact. "I killed Josh." He says simply. Stiles nearly lets out a sigh of relief, but feels too guilty to. Theo takes a step foward, looking Stiles over as he explains with little remorse, "He was supposed to warn me if that little pack of yours went after you." Stiles swallows. "So how long did you really think this would last?" Theo asks, "Did you really think I would just let you go?"

"No." Stiles admits, casting his eyes to the floor. He knew Theo would come for him no matter what. He just didn't know how he'd feel when he did. And he still doesn't. Because part of him is truly happy to see Theo again. He missed him, despite it only being a few hours. But the other part knows how wrong this is. He shouldn't love the person who kept him captive, shouldn't want badly to go back with him right now and never look back.

Theo's smirk returns. "Did they make you leave?" He asks. Stiles doesn't look up from the ground. Theo laughs, low in his throat, reaching a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind Stiles' ear. "I knew you wouldn't leave me willingly. We're... connected." He looks Stiles' face over, "You love me."

"You're not mad?" Stiles asks, finally looking up. He doesn't push Theo's hand away, despite knowing he should. 

Theo sighs. "I was." He admits. He runs his fingers through Stiles' hair, brushing some of it back from where it was stuck against his forehead. "At first. But it's not your fault." He takes a deep breath, taking his comforting hand away and stepping away, "I just want to take you home, so things can go back to the way you were." He grabs the stack of neatly folded clothes on the table near the wall, the one's Stiles was wearing before he was forced to change into a flimsy hospital gown and sweatpants. "Get dressed," he says, tossing Stiles the clothes."

Stiles catches them clumsily. "Theo..." he says weakly. Theo turns and tilts his head. 

"What?" Theo asks, voice laced with underlying anger. His fingers tap impatiently on the table. He's not as calm as he's pretending to be. "Just.." he takes a deep breath, "Please. Get dressed so we can leave."

Stiles looks down at his clothes. Theo's clothes. "Theo." He repeats, looking back up. Theo seems to know what he means without actually having to say it because he clenches his jaw shut tight. 

"You're coming _home_." Theo demands between clenched teeth. 

Stiles is hardly at a loss for words, but he literally can't think of anything to say. He knows he can't go back with Theo. He just can't come up with a reason not to right now, not when it's so tempting to just go back.

"Come on." Theo says, trying a more gentle tone. He takes one of Stiles' hands in his and pulls him close, saying, "Stiles. I love you," he reaches a hand up to stroke his cheek, "Come home with me. You're happy with me, you know you are. Just get dressed."

Stiles looks back at the clothes in his unoccupied hand. "They're not even my clothes."

Theo's brows furrow a moment. "Is that what this is about?" He asks, voice hopeful, "I can buy you your own clothes, Stiles. I can even get you some of your old clothes, if that's what you want."

"No." Stiles says with a hint of exasperation in his tone. Does Theo really believe that that's Stiles issue? Clothes? "No, Theo, that's not... don't you get the point? Nothing in that apartment is mine. It's not _home_.." he licks the bottom of his lip and sighs, pulling his hand and body away.

Theo watches him with growing impatience. He still attempts to keep his voice somewhat calm, though, as he says, "It is your home." He steps foward, "It's our home."

"You kept me captive." Stiles says, dropping the stack of clothes onto the hospital bed. It feels weird to say. By the end it didn't feel like being held against his will. It felt like home. But he wasn't allowed to leave, so that makes it a prison, doesn't it?

Theo narrows his eyes, all gentleness disapearing from his face. " _Captive_?" He asks, "I'm the one who protected you. The one who kept you safe when those _friends_ of yours were going to let you die. I took care of you, fed you, bathed you. I gave you everything. And you're gonna abandon me because your stupid little pack told you to?" Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. "They don't care about you, Stiles." 

"You lied to me." Stiles snaps. Theo tilts his head, furrowing his brows. Stiles continues angrily, "You said they weren't looking, but they were the whole time. You had your betas watching them, and you were going to kill them."

Theo takes a step backwards, backing off a bit. He huffs, saying, "Well, what else was I supposed to do? Let them take you from me?"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," Stiles says, pointing an accusing finger at him, "I'm not yours to take away. I'm not _yours_."

"Oh, really?" Theo asks, taking a few steps foward until he's inches away from Stiles' face. "Because I think you are. All mine," he says almost dreamily, gaze dropping to Stiles' lips. He leans foward and presses their mouths together. Stiles doesn't kiss him back. Well, not at first. But the familiar feeling of Theo's soft lips, and the feeling of his hand curling into his hair, pulling him in close... it's bringing back all these loving feelings that Stiles was trying to suppress.

He leans in, opening his mouth to let Theo's tongue in. Theo takes this as a sign of submission, wrapping an arm around Stiles' waist and pulling him in. The kiss is raw and intense. It feels like Theo is trying to claim his mouth as his own. Which, might very well be what Theo is trying to do. 

The kiss is so enticing, and a little voice in the back of Stiles' head is whispering, _just go back with him, just let him have the control_. And that's a fucking terrifying thought.

Stiles pulls away abruptly, pushing at Theo to put a little distance between them. They both stand there for a moment, panting slightly. Stiles wipes his mouth. It's like he can't even control himself with Theo. He _wants_ him. And he knows it's wrong, and Theo kept him prisoner, but he wants him. 

"Stop it." Stiles says breathlessly. 

"Why are you pretending you don't want this?" Theo asks, staring back at him, "You love me, and I love you. You're really going to leave me because they told you to?"

"It's not healthy." Stiles says, frustration filling his voice, "You know it's not. I wasn't allowed to leave- you punished me when I tried."

"That's beacause I care about you!" Theo yells suddenly, making Stiles flinch, "These 'friends' of yours don't give a shit about you. I _do_. I was protecting you."

Stiles quickly argues back, "That's not all it was about. You wanted me all to yourself."

Theo's in front of him in a flash. He growls while grabbing his wrist in a vice-like grip. "I could've left you there. With Donovan," he flashes his red eyes in anger and frustration, "I could've let you die there. But I took you in, and like it or not you belong to me. So you can come back willingly, or I can drag you."

Stiles swallows, attempting to pull his wrist away. "I'm not going back." He tries, but even he can sense the lie in his voice. If Theo really forced him back, he wouldn't put up that much of a fight. And he feels guilty for it. His pack and dad care about him, he shouldn't be so willing to abandon them all. Especially after causing them so much pain already. He wishes he could have both, but that could never happen. Would never happen. 

"Stiles," Theo says, his entire demeanor changing within a second from angry to calm. He takes a step foward, "I know you'll make the right choice," he says quietly. He leans in, whispering into Stiles' ear, "Because if you don't, I'll have to kill your pack."

Stiles tenses. "You can't," he says sharply. 

"I will." Theo says simply. He brushes another piece of hair behind Stiles' ear, looking over his face, "You know I will. That's why you'll stop arguing and come home with me."

Stiles stares at him for a moment. "Fine." He murmurs unhappily. Theo smirks, petting his head. 

"Good choice." He says, stepping away at last. He cocks his head towards the clothes on the bed, saying, "Get dressed."

Stiles swallows, grabbing Theo's pair of jeans. "Things will be better," Theo promises, waiting for him to finish while he stands near the door, looking over the posters and signs on the wall next to it, "I'll buy you your own clothes, we'll go out more. And I wasn't lying- I'll give you more freedom eventually. I'll make sure you're happy."

Stiles sighs, throwing off the hospital gown and pulling on a t-shirt. He supposes he's stuck with Theo. As long as he's around, Stiles can't have freedom, not _real_ freedom. It's bittersweet in a way, because Stiles was kind of coming around to the idea of being with his pack again. But this isn't that bad. He's already used to Theo, used to the apartment, his new life. Everything will be... fine.

 

As soon as Lydia steps into the hospital, she can tell something's wrong. He stops and tenses, nearly dropping the brown bag of greasy fast food she is holding. Scott stops and looks back at her, hair still wet from the quick shower he took before packing. "What's wrong?" He asks, voice laced with concern.

Lydia swallows. "... it's probably nothing." She murmurs. She gets weird feelings like this in hospitals sometimes, surrounded by so much death.

Scott flashes her one more concerned look, before saying, "I'm gonna go find my mom."

Lydia nods, turning and walking to the elevator. Her hands shake when she reaches for the button. She takes a deep breath as the hospital doors close, but it's hard to shake the feeling that something's off. But she reminds herself that everything's looking up. Stiles has opened up a bit about what happened and seemed a little more open to the idea of staying with the pack and not Theo.

When the elevator doors open an empty hallway stares back at her. She swallows, only having to take one step foward before a sick feeling fills her gut. She swallows, continuing to walk down the hall anyways, right to Stiles' room. She should've listened to that feeling in her gut, she realizes as soon as she opens the door.

The whole scene is off, and definetly not how Lydia left Stiles about an hour ago. Stiles is standing by the bed, pulling on the blue sweatshirt he was wearing when they found him, hospital gown thrown carelessly onto the floor. A guy- one that Lydia immediately recognizes as Theo- is standing by the wall a few feet away. He growl as soon as he sees her, eyes glowing a menacing alpha red. This catches Stiles' attention, as he looks over. His eyes widen immediately in what looks like fear. 

"Lydia, you have to leave," Stiles says urgently, glancing at the angry werewolf and then back to her. 

"You should listen to him." Theo growls through his fangs. He's beyond intimidating, but all Lydia can think is that he was the person keeping Stiles as prisoner, probably threatening and using his alpha eyes to intimidate him. Stiles argued intently that Theo never hurt him, that every bad thing that happened to him was because of Donovan, but Lydia's having a hard time believing that. The human mind does a lot to cope with terrible situations, and it's not hard to believe he's idealizing how things were between them.

"Stiles, you don't have to go with him." Lydia says. They lost him once, and Lydia is not about to lose him again. 

Theo growls again, taking a step towards her. "No, Lydia, please," Stiles begs, staring wearily at Theo, "It's okay, really. Just- just please leave, okay?"

Lydia turns to Theo. "He's not going anywhere," she says, keeping her voice steady and confident. 

"He wants to come home." Theo says, voice smug. He turns to Stiles and asks in a gentler voice, "Don't you, baby?"

The words make Lydia sick, but what's ever worse is how easily Stiles responds to the nickname. He nods, turning back to Lydia as he says desperately, "Yeah, I want to, okay, just leave, please leave." 

Theo smirks, like he's won. It makes Lydia's blood boil. "He doesn't love you," Lydia says to Stiles, "You know that. He kept you captive- he kept you away from your real home. You don't really want to go with him."

Theo's smirk falls and an angry look crosses his face. "You don't know anything. We're leaving." he says, "Right, Stiles?"

Stiles looks terribly distressed, like he might be sick. "Lydia, _please_ ," he begs again, sounding even more desperate.

Theo takes Stiles' hand, pushing past Lydia in an attempt to leave. Lydia, in a panic, pushes at the werewolves chest, hard. He doesn't like this very much. He snarls, shoving her by the shoulders. She falls on her back, hitting the hard tiles beneath her. Her head must hit it too, because everything goes black.

 

Stiles watches in horror as Lydia's head hits the floor and she's knocked unconcious. "Theo!" Stiles yells, his struggles to get out of Theo's grip not effecting the alpha at all, "I'm doing what you want, you promised you wouldn't hurt them!"

Theo, in his increasingly angry state, huffs. "She was in the way," he says, pulling roughly at Stiles' arm to tug him out of the room. "You're lucky I'm letting her live." Stiles plants his feet firmly against the ground.

"No, no, I have to see if she's okay," he says, pulling his arm away again. Theo's grip only tightens. 

"She's fine," he insists, pulling him harder, hurting Stiles' already injured arm in the process. Stiles makes a noise of discomfort, but Theo seems too angry to care. "Let's _go_ ," he says impatiently. 

Theo finally manages to pull him from the room, much to Stiles' dismay. Lydia's unconcious, laying on the ground. He can't just leave her there. "No, Theo, Theo," Stiles says anxiously, as he's pulled down the empty hall, "Stop, just- wait, stop-"

He's abruptly cut off when Theo slams him against the wall. Stiles' cries out in surprise. The motion is eerily similar to when Donovan pinned him to the wall that time at the fighting ring, which onlu adds to Stiles' anxiety. "If you want don't come willingly, I'm going to murder that pack right in front of you and drag you home. Understand?" Theo asks with a head tilt, growing more and more angry with each passing second.

Stiles glances at the door a few feet away. "I thought you loved me," he says, voice more vulnerable and hurt then he meant it to be.

"I do." Theo says, obviously very aggravated, "Of course I love you. You don't understand it yet, but everything I do is because I love you. I'm _protecting_ you."

Before Stiles can think about how completely fucked up that statement is, he hears a roar in the distance. Both he and Theo look over to the elevator, where Scott is standing by the open doors, fully wolfed out and eyes set on Theo.

"Get away from him!" Scott yells in his deep alpha voice. Stiles instantly realizes that the position they're in, Stiles pinned to the wall by the werewolf who kept him locked up for a month. It's definitely not helping Stiles' case that Theo never hurt him.

Theo growls back, releasing Stiles and turning to Scott. And _no_ , that just _can't_ happen. No matter what, there's no good ending to this scenario. "Theo," Stiles says pleadingly, grabbing his arm, "Please, just- let's leave, I'll go with you, just-"

Theo brushes him off, looking at Scott like he wants to kill him. Scott takes a step foward, saying again, "Get away from him."

"Scott, it's okay," Stiles tries, stepping foward to get in between the two angry alphas. He's not sure which he's more afraid of- Theo killing Scott, or Scott killing Theo. And he doesn't intend to find out. 

"No it's not," Scott says. Despite the alpha voice, which is dark and deep, there's an underlying deperation to his words. "He hurt you!" He yells, "I'm not letting him hurt you again."

Theo suddenly grabs Stiles' forearm, yanking him back behind him. This must be what sets Scott off, because he runs at Theo and attacks. They fight for a moment and Stiles just stands there, watching with growing sickness in his gut. 

He finally moves when Scott ends up on the floor with Theo standing over him, bloody clawed hand up, ready to swipe at Scott's neck. He grabs Theo's arm quickly, trying to pull him away. "Stop, stop," he says, glancing down at Scott's bloodied, scratches up body on the floor, "Theo, please," Theo looks at him, dangerous look in his eyes, "We can just go, you don't have to..." he can't make himself say the words. 

Theo looks him over. His eyes fade back to their normal blue and he nods. Stiles isn't sure what it is that calms him down, maybe the compliance or maybe he's just worn himself out. He holds out his hand expectantly. Stiles takes in a sharp breath before taking it. He looks down at Scott guiltily. Scott sits up weakly, clutching at a healing claw make across his chest. "Stiles, you don't have to go," he says.

But he _does_. Because if he doesn't, they're all going to die, and Stiles couldn't live with himself if that happened. Even if they somehow managed to stop Theo, Stiles is pretty sure he couldn't manage without him. His mind is torn and broken, and all he knows is this is the only thing he can think of to do.

"I'm sorry." He whispers. Then he allows Theo to pull him away, and he looks away from Scott's heartbroken face.

They almost make it to the elevator before a voice behind them calls, "Stop where you are."

Stiles looks back and sees his dad further down the hall, near Scott, with his gun pointed at Theo, Parrish behind him with his gun out as well. Theo laughs when he sees him. "You're gonna shoot me?" He asks, amused, tilting his head to the side, "Bullets don't work on me."

His dad doesn't back down. He keeps his gun steady, saying in his cop voice, "You're under arrest, put your hands behind your head." He looks to Stiles briefly, adding, "Stiles, step away from him."

Theo shakes his head. He actually does release Stiles' hand, saying to his dad, "There's nothing you can do. He's _mine_."

Stiles is surprised when he hears a gunshot. But he's even more surprised when he sees a bullet wound in Theo's stomach. Theo looks surprised too, knocked back a bit by the shot. His hand goes to cover the wound, and he looks back up. "Wolfsbane?" He asks, though he seems to already know the answer. He looks shocked, like he can't believe this has happened. Like the thought of wolfsbane bullets weren't even a possibility in his mind. 

Theo falls to his knees, as blood pools on the floor. Stiles takes a few steps backwards, feeling... well, he has no idea how he's feeling. His dad and Parrish appear in front of him, Parrish manhadling Theo's arms behind his back and cuffing them together while his dad reads him his miranda rights. Theo stares at Stiles the entire time. He's broken out into a sweat and his face is pale because of the poison. It's hard to tell what he's thinking. But he does say a weak, "Stiles..." and Stiles has no idea if he wants help, or was about to say something else. And he never gets a chance to find out.

Parrish takes him away easily, the wolfsbane quickly taking over his system and making him weak. He doesn't break eye contact the entire time, not until the elevators door close. Stiles stares at the closed doors for what feels like a while. He only looks away when his dad puts a hand on his shoulder. Then he pulls him into a tight hug. Stiles hugs him back, burying his face into his shoulder. "It's alright," his dad says to him, rubbing his back, "You're gonna be okay."

Stiles honestly doubts that. He doesn't think he'll ever be okay again. He _loves_ him. But he just stays in his dad's arms. He watches over his shoulder as Melissa helps Scott up, and several nurses rush into Stiles' room, probably to Lydia. Stiles takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

 

 

"Why is it called the 4th episode if it's the first?" Scott asks, looking down at the Star Wars disk in front of him. Stiles rolls his eyes, taking a bite of his pizza. 

"Just put it in," He says with a mouth full of food from where he sits on he and Scott's couch. Lydia is on the livingroom chair next to him, picking pepperoni off of her slice. 

It's hard to believe how drastically his life has changed in just a few months. When he first came home, it felt like he was starting over. He had to get used to everything again, to sleeping alone, to being allowed to leave the house whenever he wanted without fear of repercussions. It was hard at first, and sometimes he still feels like something's off. Therapy helps a lot with that. 

After that night, when Theo was arrested, they connected him and a couple of his betas to big crimes, mainly a string of murders. Luckily for Stiles that meant he wouldn't have to press charges, Theo was going to jail for completely different reasons then keeping someone captive. Stiles was only kept updated by his dad, and after a month Theo was sentenced to life in prison. Which was... weird. After starting therapy, yes, he knows what happened between them wasn't at all a normal relationship, and the only reason he had feelings for him was stockholm syndrome. But heres the stupid thing; the feelings don't just go away when you know what's causing them. And deep in Stiles' heart, he truly misses Theo. 

He's gotten quite a few calls from him, especially in the beginning, with a few every now and then. He hasn't answered, but god, he's been tempted. Sometimes he even thinks about driving down to the prison to see him. But he knows he can't. Not only is it terrible for recovery, he doesn't think he can actually handle it. All Theo would have to do is say one thing and Stiles would be falling for him again. 

He can't help but feel guilty about Theo. He knows he probably deserves this; he ran a freaking criminal organization, aparently murdered way more people than he ever told Stiles about. But he saved his life. And Stiles truly does believe Theo loved him, in his own fucked up way. 

A tiny part of Stiles believes he'll see Theo again. They didn't arrest all of Theo's pack. He's probably still running things from prison. And he's a werewolf, afterall. Escape isn't entirely impossible. Sometimes Stiles has nightmares about Theo coming back and murdering his entire pack. But he tries not to give that too much thought, it will only drive him crazy...

"Is this the one with the little green guy?" Lydia asks, patting her pizza with a napkin to wipe greese off. 

Stiles scoffs. "You mean _yoda_? You two really need to watch these movies."

Scott laughs, putting in the disk and taking a seat on the couch next to him. 

Stiles' friends make things better. They try to help with whatever they can, backing off when he needs some space. Lydia and Malia come over almost daily, sometimes bringing movies to watch, sometimes just coming to hang out. And when Stiles has nightmares and goes to sleep on the couch instead of his lonely bed, Scott will sit on the livingroom chair until he falls asleep to keep him company.

Things are a far cry from perfect. There are a lot of panic attacks, and some times when all he wants is to go back to that apartment, to be with Theo again. They're not that terrible either, though. Stiles feels like he's living in a constant state of melancholy. But he knows all he can do is keep trying. He's not gonna let this one thing define him. He'll get through it, like everything else in his life. 

He looks around at his friends and a small smile appears on his face. Yeah. He'll be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end. Jesus. Have I actually finished an entire fic? This might be one of the first times! 
> 
> So, first, I have to say thank you all so much for reading this. When I wrote the first chapter I didn't really have a plan to continue, but thanks to some of the most positive feedback I've ever recieved this has turned into such an amazing experience and a story that I'm truly proud of. So thank you. I literally could not have done it without you're guy's support. 
> 
> I wasn't sure how I wanted to end this. I'm not great at endings, which you probably know if you've read some of my other stories. And there were a lot of mixed opinions in the comments on how this should end. Ultimately, this is what I chose. I knew they couldn't end up together, because their relationship was too unbalanced and unhealthy. But, Theo would never just give up, and I thought he didn't deserve to die. This was somewhere in the middle. Plus, I left it kind of open, so you decide what happens next between them. Hope this satisfies everybody enough (based on the comments, I know alot won't be, but I never planned for these two to end up together). Let me know what you thought of it!
> 
> Thank you all so much for this amazing journey. Let me know if you have any prompts for my next story, or if you want me to continue another story on my account. Love you all!!


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